


The Skies Are All Falling

by AccidentalAvenger



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Enjolras has fire powers, F/M, For Les Mis Mutant Week, Grantaire has shadow powers, Implied Drug Use, M/M, Supehero/mutant au, and disturbing scenes, if I write anymore I'll change the archive warnings, some violence, they aren't too graphic, with blood and dead bodies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccidentalAvenger/pseuds/AccidentalAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire never wanted to be a Mutant, let alone a Superhero, but Grantaire usually doesn't get what he wants.<br/>Somehow he's ended up hanging out with Paris' resident Superheroes, getting involved in Mutant politics (how can you not, with Enjolras around?) and having to defeat an insane group of Supervillains. <br/>Also, the Superheroes mentioned happen to be some of his pretty good friends who he might be lying to about his nocturnal activities on a regular basis. <br/>Add in an unaddressed alcohol problem, a mad anti-mutant Policeman on his trail, some really weird neighbours who have a bad history with his best friend and a teleporting twelve year old, you'd think that Grantaire had enough on his plate.<br/>Of course, he had to go and fall in love with the most infuriatingly heroic human ever as well.</p>
<p>(Used to be The Light Behind Your Eyes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Remember tonight... For it is the beginning of always" - Dante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the quotes and chapter titles are taken from Dante's Divine Comedy, mostly Inferno.

There are a lot of theories to why Mutants developed Powers. The cause was obviously the meteor that had destroyed Los Angeles, almost fifty years ago, but why that meteor had triggered the huge wave of Mutation across the globe was still a mystery. Scientists had dedicated their lives to studying Mutants but to no avail. No concrete evidence was found for why some people developed Powers and some didn't. The most plausible theory was that some people had an undetectable 'Supergene' which had been triggered by a kind of radiation that couldn't be recognised, causing it the gene to mutate and start producing it's own, unique energy which in turn triggered other mutations. 

Mutants were hated at first. It was partially jealousy: mind control and telekinesis weren't new concepts but they were enviable powers. But it was partially fear of the unknown. People hid their mutations and if they were discovered they'd be hunted down or taken off to secretive government laboratories. Either way, they were usually never seen again and the authorities didn't care.

Then Superheroes had emerged. A teenage girl had used her ability to control magnetism to stop two buses from crashing, saving almost a hundred lives. She had disappeared immediately afterwards but suddenly people in the surrounding area were being saved by a mysterious girl in a mask. It sparked a trend, all over the world mutants would hide their real identity but save people, using their talents for good. It had changed so many perspectives, making people suddenly liked talking about Mutants and their heroic acts. Kids read comic books while newspapers and magazines always splashed the most recent acts of their city's Superhero (or villain) across the front page. It became glamorous and sensationalised. 

There was still an underlying prejudice against Mutants though, despite the fame. Laboratories continued to experiment on children showing signs of Mutation. No one was as exciting as expected when their secret identity was discovered and Mutants were still discriminated against in everyday life. People still feared mutants unless they risked their lives to save the same people that would hate them from day to day.

There was a reason that all Superheroes wore a mask. 

\---------

Grantaire had been born thirty-one years after the meteor. He grew up in a world where Superheroes were an everyday occurrence. Some of the teachers at school had told them all stories about a time before Mutants but the kids could barely imagine, let alone believe it. It seemed as far away as the Stone Age to them. 

Grantaire had grown-up in an orphanage. His parents had disappeared when he was three, just leaving him at nursery one day. He had been sent to the dreary, cold orphanage and stayed their ever since. A few couples had thought about adopting him but he had always been 'not exactly what we're looking for' or 'too old.' When he was six he met Eponine who had been sent with her 3 year-old sister, Azelma, and her 1 year-old brother, Gavroche. She also had two younger brothers, baby twins who had been adopted almost immediately. 

Her parents had been foster-parents to several children, until it turned out they were using their postion to extract money from the parents while mistreating the kids. When the police had come to investigate the Thenardiers had taken the money and run, leaving their five children behind. Eponine and Grantaire had quickly bonded, playing with each other and her younger siblings - together ignoring the jeers from other children at school who had stable families.

They helped each other through everything; Grantaire's drinking and depression, Eponine's anxiety and tendency to get involved with the worst kind of people and they stopped each other from falling too far into the pit of crime and drugs that they found themselves surrounded by. It wasn't a good home but at least they had each other. Eponine had been the first and only person Grantaire had come out to and in return he was always there at every painful break-up Eponine had.

They were both eighteen and had just moved away from the dreary foster-home where they had spent almost all their lives. Eponine had been trying to get custody of her younger siblings, saving up money from the cafe she worked and taking night classes to get a proper degree in physiology. Grantaire had been helping as much as he could in between paying the rent and drinking too much. He painted and drew a lot - and well, but rarely sold any of his works. He taught kick-boxing classes at the local gym and played gigs at restaurants and bars to get extra cash, besides his day job at the library. 

He was walking home one night, slightly drunk with his guitar on back, after a gig at a seedy bar when it he had seen Him for the first time. The alley was dark and silent, smelling of bad drainage and empty Chinese food cartons. He wouldn't usually walk back that way but he had already stayed to long at the bar and his phone was dead, so Eponine was probably freaking out back at the flat. 

A mugger stepped out of the shadows, dressed in black with a gun in hand pointed straight at Grantaire. "Drop the case and give me all your money," he instructed coldly. He looked young, underneath the dark hood, and his hands were shaking slightly. Grantaire did as he said, swinging the guitar case slowly off his back and settling it gently on the ground, placing his wallet carefully on top. He added his phone for good measure. As the masked man stepped forward Grantaire stepped away. The man had clicked the safety catch on the gun. "Look man, I given you my stuff. Let me go, I'm not a risk - I'm kind of drunk," Grantaire desperately reasoned but the guy's hand was shaking even more now, in a familiar way which signalled withdrawal, and he was still pointing the gun at Grantaire as he backed against a wall, hands spread open above his head. The mugger shook his head.

Suddenly there was a flash of golden light. It rushed past Grantaire and slammed into the mugger. The gun was thrown into the air by the impact and Grantaire threw himself to the ground, hoping it wouldn't go off. In such a small alley the bullet would ricochet. For that reason he didn't see what happened to the mugger but there was a howl of pain and the smell of burning hair. When he glanced up, after hearing the gun fall safely to the ground, he saw the mugger running away as fast as he could. 

He glanced up, still lying on the ground, at the source of the golden light and saw a slim, male figure in a very tight, bright red suit, apart from his grey gloves and boots. Thin, bright flames rushed along the fabric, leaving faint traces of gold and orange sparks and soot. There was a fading glow about the man, coming especially from his golden hair which was shining brightly and sending out cascading sparks. The man's face was beautiful as far Grantaire could see but his eyes were covered by a grey mask. It should have been a ridiculous outfit but somehow it suited the heroic figure. Grantaire's hands itched to draw him. The man was unmistakably a Superhero. 

The man leant down and helped Grantaire up. He was surprisingly strong for someone so skinny, hauling Grantaire to his feet easily. As Grantaire stood he noticed he was trembling slightly. "Are you alright?" The man asked, tilting his head to the side and staring at him intently. Grantaire nodded and leant down to pick up his guitar and wallet. As he stood up he saw the man was still watching him. "I'm fine, Apollo. Go defeat more crime or do whatever you superheroes do in your free time," he said lightly. The guy was making him nervous, just staring silently. 

The man frowned at his words. "Apollo?" He asked in confusion. Grantaire shrugged and replied nonchalantly, "You know, like the sun god. Your hair is kind of bright." The mans expression cleared and he let out an 'oh' running a hand through his hair making the light fade away completely. The pair were left in darkness. The Superhero turned to go but turned back quickly. "It's Inferno, actually - not Apollo," he snapped before sprinting off. Grantaire watched him go, amazed but not speechless. "Whatever you say," he yelled after the shrinking figure, "Apollo."

And that was all it had taken. Less than five minutes of being with the mysterious Inferno was all it had taken. It was a well-known fact that exposure to someone else with the super gene could trigger the development of Powers but Grantaire had never dreamed it would happen to him. He wasn't anything special, just a depressive, cynical drunkard but looking at the retreating, glowing figure he felt something stir inside him but pushed it away as admiration and shock. He shook his head and continued walking home

\---------

"R! Where the hell have you been?" asked Eponine angrily, "You're nearly an hour late. If you stay behind drinking at least call or text me!"

"I got mugged on the way back," explained Grantaire in a tired voice. Eponine gasped and questions rushed out of her, "Holy shit! Are you alright? What did they take? Did they hurt you? Have you gone to the pol-" Grantaire cut her off quickly, putting his hand over her mouth. She scowled at him and pushed his hand away but kept silent, listening to his explaination. "I'm fine, 'Ponine. It was weird, you won't believe it. So the mugger had a gun and he really looked like he was going to use it, even after I gave him my stuff. He was a druggie - hands shaking and all that shit. But then there was this golden glow which slammed into him and knocked the gun away. It was this blond guy, one of those Superheroes. Called himself Inferno. I think he burned the mugger or something. Anyway he ran off and here I am. He was gorgeous though, even wearing a mask. Sounds impossible but the guy managed to pull off a spandex suit."

Eponine was gaping at him, eyebrows raised. "Inferno! Oh my god, he's all over today's newspaper. Stopped a gang fight with a bunch of other Superheroes, they're calling themselves Les Amis de l'ABC. I think. You just met Paris' biggest superhero! What was he like?" Grantaire grinned lazily as Eponine excitedly fired off questions. "I'm pretty sure I pissed him off. I called him Apollo." Eponine glared at him dangerously, "Hey. I'm drunk and he honestly looked god-like," Grantaire said defensively.

Eponine rolled her eyes and pulled him into the kitchen. She grabbed the wine bottle on the table and poured two generous glasses. Raising hers she seriously said, "Here's to you not being dead." Grantaire nodded faux-seriously and raised his, clinking it against hers. "And to hot Superheros. I wonder if all of Les Amis de l'ABC as attractive as he is 'cause if they are we would be a seriously lucky city," he said in a serious tone. Eponine laughed and downed her glass only to fill it up again. "I sure as hell hope so. I would not mind being the Lois Lane to a dreamy Superman."

They weren't laughing the next morning when Eponine walked straight through his very solid and very locked door.


	2. Our Minds Are Like Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now our minds are like smoke, then they shall be like fire" - Dante

Grantaire. Get up," ordered Eponine from beside his bed. Grantaire rolled over, groaning a protest and pulled his duvet over his head. The duvet was ripped away from him and he sat up slowly, hair falling into his eyes. "'Ponine! I have a bloody awful hangover. Anyway, I don't need to be up till 10:00 today and it's only..." he protested, reaching for his duvet and squinting at his bedside clock, "Six o'clock! Thanks a lot. What the hell is so important you have to wake me up at six?"

He brushed his hair out of his eyes and sent an evil look at where he thought Eponine was standing. She wasn't there, just his duvet crumpled on the floor. He turned his head but she wasn't there either. He scanned his room but it was empty. The door was closed and he could see it was locked from the inside, like every night. His room was empty, locked and there was no Eponine in there. He had definitely drunk to much last night, he decided. He buried his face in his pillow and tried to ignore the cold. He must have kicked the duvet off or something while he slept and then woken up. Fuck, he was tired. 

"R, what's happening to me?" came the scared voice of Eponine from beside his bed. He jerked backwards and stared at Eponine who had suddenly appeared where she haddefinitely  not been before. "Holy shit! How, how the hell did you do that?" Grantaire asked, mouth hanging open. Eponine looked miserable and shrugged, "I woke up at about five and went to the toilet. I couldn't see myself in the mirror and I panicked. I don't know what's going on. I can go invisible and I keep turning invisible. I couldn't last night but I can now." Her voice sounded choked and her eyes were wide and tearful. She stepped forward and her leg went right through Grantaire's nightstand.

Grantaire fell off his bed in suprise. He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head. "So... You have... Powers? You're a Mutant? But, how?" he asked slowly, still shocked at the fact his partially transparent, best friend's leg was in his very solid nightstand. "I don't know! R, what am I going to do? Wait - the guy you met last night. Inferno, that Superhero guy. Maybe it has something to do with him, I mean maybe it triggered my supergene or something," Eponine was almost hysterical, her voice shrill and slicing through Grantaire's tired, hungover brain.

Grantaire stood up and took her arm gently. To his relief she felt solid and warm. He really didn't want to accidentally stick his hand through his best friend. Silently he unlocked his door and lead her, trembling, into the kitchen opposite his room. He pulled out a chair and sat her down gently. "First I'm going to make coffee and you're going to calm down," he explained, desperately wracking his brains for what to do after that, "Then... we'll figure out what to do next. You're going to be okay." He turned to the coffee machine that Eponine's ex-boyfriend had stolen for them and switched it on, shivering. The heating in the apartment had always been awful but this morning was worse than most. Maybe it was how early it was. He could feel the panic that Eponine was barely suppressing clawing inside him but he pushed it down and ignored it. He had to be strong for his friend right now.

Having powers would seem amazing at first, the stories had always represented them as a good thing, but practically? They weren't great. If you weren't a Superhero you were a freak. If people found out what Eponine could do they would shun her in public, fire her from her job, and definitely not let her get custody of Azelma and Gavroche. In a worse case scenario scientists would experiment on her or mobs would hunt her down. Everyone had heard the rumours. And what if she was too powerful? What if she couldn't control her powers? What if it drove Eponine mad? It wasn't unheard of for people to lose control, to be driven mad and destroy everything around them.

"It's fucking freezing in here," Grantaire commented, shoving away the panicked thoughts, "The landlord really needs to fix the heating - I've told him twice already." The coffee finished brewing and Grantaire poured it into their two favourite, chipped mugs and added milk  and sugar. Lots of it, it was that type of day. 

It was still dark outside, despite the fact the sun should have been rising. He sat down next to Eponine who was looking shell-shocked. She wrapped her hands round her cup and Grantaire was startled to see how see-through she was; the geometric purple-and-grey pattern of her mug showing faintly through the back of her hands. He took a sip of his coffee, watching her and then spat it out. Stone-cold and disgusting. "Fuck. Now the coffee machine isn't working either! Oh god, I can't stand filter coffee but we can't afford a new coffee machine." Eponine raised her eyebrows at Grantaire and lifted her cup to her mouth and took a sip. "Mine's warm," she said in confusion.

Grantaire looked down at his coffee and took another cautious sip. Still cold. "How does that happen?" He asked steadily, a terrible idea forming in his mind. "Grantaire, you don't think that you could also have powers? It would make sense, I mean, you met Inferno. He would have triggered it in you and then you triggered me...?" Eponine quickly asked, voicing the suspicions Grantaire had started to form. He clutched at his mug, not answering and heard a quiet clink. Looking down at the brown liquid he saw a small shard of brown ice floating in the coffee. He glanced back up to see that Eponine had seen it to.

"Well," he said, "This changes things."

"Yeah it does," agreed Eponine, "Crap. What the hell are we going to do?"

Grantaire took a deep breath. "We can't tell anyone," he decided. Eponine nodded in agreement and he continued, "We'll take the next few days off, we can say we have the flu, to figure out what we can do. And then, I suppose, we'll have to hide it. For now at least. I'm going to call Jeremy and tell him that I won't be able to come into the library today. You better do the same. Then, um, then we can experiment with what we can do." He got up, leaving his steadily freezing coffee on the table. Immediatly it began to thaw. As he left the room Eponine stopped him, "Hey, R." He turned round to see her still sitting there holding her mug. "Yeah?" He asked.

"It's kind of awesome, if you think about it," Eponine pointed out, giving a small grin. Grantaire smiled weakly back. "Yeah it is a bit," he agreed. He had to admit having Powers was going to be interesting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for all the kudos on the first chapter :)  
> Also I'll add a list of all the Powers with the next chapter, once you're introduced to Les Amis.


	3. The Loss of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The wisest are the most annoyed at the loss of time" - Dante

"Enjolras! It's six-thirty! Where the hell have you been all night?" asked Combeferre angrily. Enjolras sighed tiredly as he took his ash-grey mask off. He peeled off his gloves, his back to Combeferre as he answered the question, "Out. You're acting like my mother."  
"What were you doing 'out'?"  
"What do you think? I was being a superhero, you know, like we decided we'd be?"  
"You really are an idiot, aren't you? You can't just go out alone, we're supposed to be a team! What if you got hurt and none of us knew where you were? What if you were caught? You shouldn't be so reckless."  
"Well I wasn't hurt, was I?" Enjolras spun around to face Combeferre, eyes blazing, "I'm fine. And I saved lives tonight, stopped a guy from getting shot and pulled a girl from a burning building. I helped, like Superheroes are supposed to! And it's not like a drugged-up mugger and a burning building are a real match for me. Just stop bugging me about it! I'm tired anyway - I used my powers too much. I want to sleep."  
"Too bad. Mabeuf wants us for a meeting in a couple of hours to try out Jehan's new suit and we need to discuss tactics." Seeing Enjolras sigh Combeferre continued, "Well, if you had wanted to rest then you should have done it last night. When you were supposed to. We might be Superheroes but we're also a team and that means working together, not going off to save people in the middle of the night." He turned to storm out but turned back at the doorway.

"You don't have to save everyone in this city, Enjolras," Combeferre said softly before closing the door.  
"I can try," he heard Enjolras mutter bitterly.

\----------

"Marius, someone as clumsy as you should not have the power to electrocute all of us. You'll probably end up blowing up the city's power stations by accident." Combeferre heard Courfeyrac joke as he entered the spacious living room. Marius was lying on the ground looking sheepish as Courfeyrac stood over him tutting wearing alarmingly few clothes. Combeferre was suprised to see all his friends were up so early, usually Courfeyrac would refuse to get out of bed until at least 10:00.

"Leave him alone, Courf," said Jehan scoldingly while he examined a small potted orchid, "It's your own fault anyway; shifting into a cat and slinking round our ankles like that. It's just cruel because you know Marius will trip over you if you do that." Courfeyrac shrugged and pulled Marius to his feet, his hair standing up on end as he touched Marius' hand.  
"Sorry Marius," he apologised, unable to hide his grin. It wasn't malicious, just cheeky. Marius didn't complain though, he was far too good natured to get angry at his best friend - even if some of Courfeyrac's practical jokes were predictable and slightly irritating. 

"Courfeyrac put some clothes on," begged Musichetta who was sitting inbetween Joly and Bossuet on a pile of beanbags playing a fierce game of Mario Kart. "Ha! Gotcha!" she yelled as she overtook Joly. He groaned and threw his controller at the TV as he crossed the line last, far behind both Bossuet and Musichetta. Just before it hit the TV screen Musichetta raised her hand and it stopped, hovering before floating gently to the ground. "One of these days I'm not going to be able to catch it in time and it's going to go through the TV," she groaned. Joly just laughed and leant over to kiss her cheek before grabbing his remote and starting another game. 

"Why should I put more clothes on? Are you too distracted by this fine figure of a man?" Courfeyrac posed dramatically in the center of the room wearing only a pair of boxers, "Come Musichetta! Leave those two losers you waste your time on and run away with me. Our affair with will be passionate, legendary and probably brief!" Musichetta raised her eyebrow at him both Joly and Bossuet pointedly slipped their arms round her. Courfeyrac sighed and pressed his hand against his heart in a wounded manner. 

Feuilly raised his head from where he had been quietly reading in the corner armchair. "Courfeyrac, go put some more clothes on," he instructed, his tone world weary. Courfeyrac gave him an overly-dramatic injured look and proclaimed, "I shall not be pressured into conforming to your confining views! You're all just jealous of my amazing body. My boyfriend likes me being half-naked anyway." 

Jehan looked up from where he was making the orchid bloom and wither and tossed his auburn plait over his shoulder. "I like you being half-naked at certain times. For now, go put some more clothes on," he said calmly. Courfeyrac expression became exaggeratedly hurt as he stalked out of the door, down the corridor, towards his room. "You're all terrible people, especially you Jehan. I swear you will regret this later!" he yelled behind him. Jehan rolled his eyes and stuck his tounge out childishly.

Bahorel looked up from where he sat, playing on his phone, beside Fueilly and muttered in a sing-song voice, "Someone's not getting laid tonight!" Jehan threw the pot at him. It bounced ineffectively off his shoulder just making Bahorel laugh and was absently mindedly stopped from breaking by Musichetta grumpily raising her hand and stopping it.

Marius had joined the Mario Kart tournament and was currently coming eleventh, just in front of Bossuet who had been hit by three shells and run over five banana peels in the first lap. Joly and Musichetta were battling fiercely for first place. Combeferre slumped onto the sofa beside Bahorel and laughed with the rest of them, momentarily forgetting about Enjolras. There was a loud buzz from down the corridor and several people in the room happily yelled 'pizza'. "I'll get it!" shouted Feuilly as he quickly jumped up and became a blur of colour running down the long corridor. There was silent moment as he got the pizza and tipped the delivery man but within seconds he was back and handing out the large cardboard boxes.

"You know," commented Combeferre grabbing a slice of Margherita, "This place is supposed to be secret."  
"Pizza doesn't count," replied Jehan, his mouth already full of Hawaiian.  
"Neither does any other type of food delivery," added Courfeyrac as he re-entered the room, thankfully fully dressed, "It is against the fundamental rules of human nature to have evil delivery people. They don't exist. Where's Enjolras anyway? He should probably eat something, since he always forget."

"I think he's asleep, he was out all night," replied Combeferre in exasperation. There was chorus of worried muttering from everyone apart from Marius who was staring down at the pizza boxes in confusion. "Why are we having pizza at seven o'clock in the morning?" He asked.

"Why aren't you having pizza at seven o'clock in the morning?" shot back Courfeyrac passing him a box.  
"Bossuet ordered it for dinner last night," explained Joly through a mouthful of pizza, "Then the delivery guy got lost and it couldn't be delivered until this morning so we all got up to eat it, because you know, pizza. Why else would we all be up at seven?"  
"Because you woke up then?" Marius asked cautiously. There was a series of horrified gasps. "Marius, why is it you're nineteen but I feel like I'm talking to one of my grandparents?" Bahorel asked, sounding horrified.  
"Marius is a rare gem in this world and it's our duty to protect his middle-agedness," stated Jehan, taking another slice. 

Just then Enjolras shuffled through the door holding a large mug of black coffee. Thee were dark circles under his eyes and he was yawning. He looked at the group in confusion. "It's only seven o'clock in the morning, why are you eating pizza?" He asked in a tired voice.

"Why aren't you eating pizza?" crowed Bahorel, who was holding his seventh slice majestically.  
"You little shit, that's my line!" yelled Courfeyrac and launched himself off the arm of Jehan's chair and at Bahorel's pizza. Bahorel batted him away easily and Courfeyrac flew towards the wall, only for Musichetta to lift her hand again and him to land softly. Well, sort of softly.  
"One day," she tiredly warned. A few people tittered and she raised her eyebrows dramatically, "No, seriously guys. I don't think you understand the... Gravity of the situation."

Everyone either groaned or laughed and Enjolras turned around and walked out, muttering something about needing more coffee to deal with this.

"He needs to relax," said Courfeyrac, "Like seriously, I know he's supposed to be the fearless leader of our Les Amis and all that but you can still have fun. He's going to get too stressed." Combeferre nodded his agreement, raising his eyebrows as Enjolras returned with an even bigger mug of coffee.

"We probably should planning our next mission, the street gangs are going to try again as soon as possible. Bossuet - have you seen anything going to happen?" he said sitting on the sofa beside Combeferre. Courfeyrac gave Combeferre a pointed look.  
"If I knew anything, you would have been told straight away," grumbled Bossuet as he once again crossed the line last.

Before anyone could reply Marius' phone gave a chime. Pulling it out he read the message and gave a confused smile. "Poor Eponine, she's ill. Texted me instead of her boss, I think," he explained sending a message back.

"Who's Eponine?" asked Jehan curiously.  
"My old neighbour, before I moved in with Courfeyrac. I haven't seen her in ages, not at all since the whole Powers thing started," he replied, "I think she's probably still living with Grantaire. I should meet up with them at some point." He caught Enjolras' dangerous look and hastily added, "I mean, after we've stopped the gang wars, of course."

"Well before we start planning for this I'm going to find Mabeuf and see how my suit is going. He's been working on this organic fabric which will regrow once it's been torn and if it works that will be so useful to me," Jehan got up, kissed Courfeyrac on the cheek and left the room.  
"In the meantime, we should start trying to figure out which areas will be targeted next - we should be as prepared as possible when Bossuet does see something happening," suggested Enjolras, switching the TV to a large map of Paris. There was a chorus of groans.

"I was winning!" protested Musichetta, angrily slamming her remote on the floor.  
"God Enjolras, you're more middle-aged than Marius! It's only seven!" complained Courfeyrac.  
Combeferre sighed. They were always like this. All the bloody time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that interesting stuff happens next chapter.  
> Anyway, if you were curious about different people's Powers here they are:  
> Enjolras: light, fire, heat control   
> Combeferre: Psychometry of people, places and objects. Able to slow time or speed it up around him   
> Courfeyrac: shape-shifting   
> Jehan Prouvaire: control of plants   
> Joly: regeneration/healing abilities and can project symptoms of diseases   
> Bossuet L'aigle: premonition but also good at archery, so he's kind of a pyschic-Hawkeye  
> Alexander Feuilly: super-speed   
> Luc Bahorel: super-strength and ability to turn to iron   
> Musichetta Girad: manipulating gravity   
> Marius Pontmercy: controls electricity   
> Eponine Thenardier: invisibility and intangibility   
> Nicolas Grantaire: shadows/darkness and cold manipulation 


	4. Awakens the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Beauty awakens the soul to act.” - Dante

"What are we going to do about the kids?" Grantaire asked Eponine absent-mindedly.

It was three days since the pair had discovered their Powers, the days spent locked in their flat trying to figure out how to control their new found abilities. Eventually Eponine had stopped involuntarily walking through solid objects and Grantaire was no longer freezing hot drinks or sending his shadows walking around without him. That morning Eponine's boss, Marcus had called and asked if she was well enough to take the afternoon shift at the café. Reluctantly Grantaire and Eponine had decided that it was time they re-emerged into society and did their jobs. They were running low on food anyway so they had to leave at some point.

So that morning they had made their way into town, walking down to the library where Grantaire worked. It had been fine, there had been no problems. Eponine had stayed solid-looking and Grantaire's shadow was behaving like a normal shadow should. They were hiding their Powers fine. Until Grantaire carelessly opened his mouth as they strolled past the bank.

"Oh god, we can't adopt them," Eponine said in despair, coming to a halt underneath the glass canopy the entrance to Paris' largest bank. A woman hurried past them, high heels clicking loudly and gave them an annoyed look but Eponine ignored her, "We'll have to cancel the whole process: Gav and Zelma will hate us for it, we promised we'd get them out of that place. But we can't have them living with us if we've got Powers. And if I had the Supergene, they might as well! We can't even see them, in case it triggers them!"

Her tone had become increasingly hysterical and she had begun to turn transparent. Grantaire grabbed her arm and shook her gently. "'Ponine! Calm down, I can see through you!" Eponine took a deep breath and the opaqueness returned to her coffee-coloured skin. "Look," he continued, "We'll call them tonight and talk abou-"

Grantaire was cut off by screams and gunfire from inside the bank they were standing in front of. The heavy doors beside them swung shut and the electronic locks clicked. Glancing up through the tinted glass Grantaire could see figures dressed in black with balaclavas pulled over their faces, holding what looked like large guns. Still holding Eponine's arm he began to run, pulling her with him. People all round the bank were looking up and pulling out phones to call the police. One small boy with dark hair ran up to the doors and started pounding on them, yelling but a bystander ran up and pulled him away.

Eponine stopped suddenly by a rubbish truck and Grantaire turned to her. "We should get out of here. It's dangerous. The police will be here soon," he said, trying to get her to start running again.

"R..." She said looking at him meaningfully and then back to the bank. Grantaire shook his head.  
"No. No way. We have might have Powers but it's still way too dangerous. They have guns and we have no idea what to do! We barely have control of our Powers anyway, let alone fighting a gang of bank robbers!" Just as he finished there was a scream from the bank, cut short by gunfire. He winced.  
"Please, R. We could do something. Cause a distraction at least?" Eponine begged. R glanced round at the crowd gathering by the bank. The small boy from earlier was sobbing on the pavement. The image brought up memories which tugged at his heart. He bit his lip.  
"Fine," he allowed, "But not here; behind the truck, where no one can see us. And once we're in there, no being reckless or stupid. Just try to protect the people if possible. Without harming ouselves, okay?"

Eponine nodded in agreement, grinning, and rushed behind the large rubbish truck, blocking the view of the gathering bystanders. "I'll ghost through the doors and you do your shadow travel thing. The patch of shadow underneath the stairs. I'll see you there," she instructed.  
"And once we're in there?" Grantaire asked as she began to fade.  
"I don't know. Improvise!" said the disembodied voice of Eponine, moving away from him.

Grantaire stepped deeper into the shadow of the truck and closed his eyes. He knew the patch of shadow Eponine was talking about, tucked behind the stairs and a column. As he visualised it he felt the air around him change, becoming stuffier. The hubbub from the crowd faded away and was replaced with the quiet sobbing of the hostages. Grantaire opened his eyes and stared at the bottom of the staircase. He willed the shadows to surround him, making him invisible to anyone looking.

"Finally! What took you so long?" asked Eponine's voice from by his ear. He jumped and swung round but she was invisible.  
"Fuck 'Ponine! Don't do that! Do you want to give me a heart attack?" he hissed glaring at thin air.  
"Shut up. There are eleven guys, all of them have guns, and about 50 hostages. They're all in the foyer and they've already shot one woman." Her voice shook slightly but she continued none the less, "One of the guys, the leader I think, was talking to the police a moment ago. They're demanding two helicopters with pilots in an hour and they're taking four hostages with them when they leave, to 'ensure their safety'."

"Well, what are we supposed to do now? We can't exactly storm in there, they'd just start shooting."  
"We could create a distraction? I could draw some of them upstairs and knock them out. How many could you take out at once?"  
"Only about two, probably. We don't exactly have effective offensive powers, I mean maybe I could get their shadows to turn on them but if they started shooting they could hit the hostages."  
"What if we wait until they open the vault; they've got a woman doing that, a gun's pressed to her head. Then we could take them out when they've got in there."  
"Too many. Some will stay out here with the hostages and could shoot them if they hear something. We have no way of protecting the hostages, 'Ponine. Anything we do could mean they get shot."  
"So, you go upstairs distract a few and knock them out, I'll go into the vault and get the ones in there and we can then easily get the ones left out here before they shoot!"  
"But-"  
"R, have you got any better ideas?"  
"...No."  
"Then we're going with my plan. Now, go. I'll see you down here in a few minutes."  
"Fine. Just be careful 'Ponine."  
"You too. Get a move on."

Grantaire sighed and willed the shadows in the room to slowly stretch, becoming steadily larger at the edges. As long as he stayed in the darkness he wouldn't be seen but he didn't know what would happen if he stepped out. It was a really stupid idea, this hero thing. Neither him not Eponine had any idea of their limits or the full extent of their powers. At home it had been a safe environment to mess around in, but here... If he messed up, he and other people could. 

He jumped from shadow to shadow, making his way carefully up the stairs to the second floor, filled with offices and entirely empty. He made his way into the first office, not bothering to conceal himself anymore and looked around. There were filing cabinets against the wall which looked flimsy enough. All it took to send them cascading across the room was a sharp shove. They clattered loudly against the floor, sending papers flying. Grantaire created more areas of shadow and stepped into them, waiting.

A moment later there was the sound of two pairs of boots making their way up the stairs. Two armed robbers enters and looked around at the mess. "What the hell?" asked one on seeing the room was empty. Grantaire raised his hands and made a gesture, unseen by the pair of robbers. The pair's shadows suddenly stopped copying them. Grantaire slowly raised his hand and the shadows raised the shadow guns above the heads of the robbers and with a flick of Grantaire's wrist brought them down on the pairs head with a crash. The shadows disappeared as the pair dropped to the floor unconscious. Grantaire grinned. There was something thrilling about using his Powers, a kind of indescribable rush. 

He knelt beside the pair and pulled the guns away from them, shoving them into the shadows and willing them to stay concealed. Even if the pair woke up they wouldn't be able to find the guns unless Grantaire wanted them to. Which he definitely didn't. Two down, nine to go. The lights flickered off and on again. Grantaire looked up, suprised. He wasn't causing the lights to do that, was he? He knew he could, but over the past few days he had at least become aware of when he was causing something to happen, even if he couldn't quite control it yet. 

As his gaze landed on the window he drew back further into the darkness in horror. Two figures had silently appeared on the windowsill. On was a boy in a tight-fitting silver jacket and blue trousers. A blue helmet mask covered his hair and eyes but Grantaire could see that his red hair peeking out at the bottom. The other figure was a dark-skinned girl with curly hair in a white cat-suit, a masquerade-style mask covering her eyes, her hair pulled up in a tight ponytail. 

There was a click from the electronic lock on the window and it slid upwards without either of the pair touching it. The pair jumped into the room and the girl put her hand up to her ear and spoke into a microphone attached to her mask. "LiveWire and I are in the building. Over," she said before waiting a moment and nodding. She turned to the boy and told him, "He says we're good to go. Thorn is going to go through the floor in the vault and Inferno's already burning through the wall downstairs." Grantaire caught his breath. The names were stupid but he recognised them. The pair had to be part of Les Amis, Paris' resident Superheroes.

The boy nodded and turned to the door. He stopped seeing the two unconscious robbers lying sprawled in the corridor. "Musi- I mean, G. Why are they knocked out?" he asked worriedly. The girl saw the two men and opened her mouth in suprise. Then she spoke into her microphone, her tone scared. "Yeah, it's me again. Two of the robbers are unconscious on the floor and their guns are no where to be seen. I don't think we're the only ones in here. Warn the others that there might be other Supers about. Seeing as they knocked the robbers out they're probably not going to hurt us but it's best to be on the safe side," she spoke quickly, glancing around and shivering. Grantaire realised he been steadily lowering the temperature in the room and stopped. 

"It's dark in here. And cold," pointed out the boy, LiveWire, "We should go and scout out the other rooms. There might be more robbers." The girl nodded and the pair of Superheroes stepped over the two bodies and into the corridor.

Grantaire watched them go and frowned. He had to warn Eponine, she'd be in the vault when 'Thorn', whoever that was, came through the floor. He shut his eyes and visualised the patch of shadow from earlier and opened his eyes. He was back in the foyer which was completely empty. He swore under his breath; the vault must be open by now and they must have taken the hostages in there. Slowly he lengthened the shadows in the room and began to make his way round the side of the walls.

As he reached the entrance of the long corridor that led to the vault he saw a bolt of blue race cross the corridor, a blur which moved too fast for him to focus on. The room it had come from was emitting a strange golden light. Grantaire made his way to the room and saw a fiery figure standing in the middle of the room. He crept in, sneaking into the corner of the room. It was the same golden haired man from three nights earlier. Any bitterness Grantaire had been harbouring towards the Superhero for causing him to develop Powers vanished at the sight of him. He could understand why he had drunkenly nicknamed him Apollo. There was something god-like about the proud figure, hair glowing and grey-gloved hands aflame. He was quietly talking into a microphone like the girl, G, had been. "Bolt and I are in. He's already running. Tell Thorn not to go into the vault; they have the hostages in there."

As Grantaire got close to Inferno he looked up and shivered. There was a suspicious air to his expression as he looked around the room and more light began to flood out of him, driving back Grantaire's shadows that had been creeping in. Grantaire leant against the wall, trying desperately to stay hidden in shadow but the light was overwhelming. Inferno's eyes skimmed past him, then shot back and locked on him, confused. Grantaire knew what he was seeing; it had happened once with Eponine when she had turned on the light when he was messing around with his Powers. So when Inferno slowly raised his right hand so did Grantaire, acting exactly like a shadow would. After all, all Inferno could see was the black outline of a shadow. Inferno tilted his head and so did Grantaire.

Shrugging as Inferno did he turned away at the same time as the Superhero, feeling a thrill of satisfaction that he'd managed to trick the famous Inferno. But as Grantaire turned he caught a glimpse of a black masked robber, gun trained on the unsuspecting Inferno. Just before the robber pulled the trigger Grantaire yelled, "Apollo! Duck!" The Superhero dropped and spun round to see the gun just as Grantaire raised his hands and sent a tendril of shadow reaching towards the gun. It was pulled violently out of the mans grasp and with a jerk of Grantaire's arms it slammed down on his head, knocking him out. The tendril of shadow dropped the gun and retreated back into Grantaire's palms. Grantaire jerked back in suprise. Tha want something he had done before, but it had worked very effectively so he wasn't complaining. 

Inferno spun round and pointed at Grantaire. "I knew it!" He exclaimed triumphantly, "I knew you must be that Super that G and LiveWire thought was in the room upstairs with them. I give off light so I don't cast a shadow."  
Grantaire shrugged, "Give me a break, I'm kinda new to all this."  
"Who are you?" asked Inferno, squinting and trying to stare into the shadow on the wall.  
"No one special," replied Grantaire, closing his eyes, "I'm... an ally. See you around Apollo."

Grantaire opened his eyes and found himself standing under the stairs again. In the middle of the room floated G, talking into her microphone. The boy, LiveWire, was standing by the doors holding his hand against the panel showing the doors were locked. "Hurry up," G told him, "We need to get to the vault when Chronos and Titan do," She cocked her head, listening. "We were right! There was a person in that room! Inferno just talked to them but then they disappeared. But he's not dangerous, he's an ally apparently?" she exclaimed, "Come on, we need to go."

"Give me time," said LiveWire, face screwed up in concentration, "It's a difficult system. Mechanical- not just electric. Wait... there!" The doors clicked unlocked, "Okay, let's go." The pair rushed off down the corridor, leaving Grantaire to watch as the doors swung open, revealing the crowd of police and paramedics.

Two paramedics with a stretcher rushed toward the body sprawled at the side of the room. Grantaire hadn't noticed her before, but she must of been the hostage Eponine told him about. They gently lifted the limp form onto the stretcher, leaving a pool of blood where the head had been. Grantaire felt sick as he recognised the blonde women that had passed him and Eponine earlier. It had only been a few minutes before but it felt like a lifetime.

"That poor woman," came Eponine's voice from behind him. Grantaire jumped out of his skin and spun round.  
"For fuck's sake, 'Ponine! Are you trying to scare me to death?" he hissed as the paramedics quietly retreated and police surrounded the entrance.  
"Yes. What happened with you?" came the snarky reply.  
"Long story. Why aren't you in the vault?"  
"I was; I talked to some of the hostages and calmed them down then I don't know, it was weird. Everything went very slow around me, like it was in slow motion. I could still move though - probably a Powers thing. Then the wall burst open in normal time and there was a really tall, muscly guy with a shorter guy in gold. They both could move normally and they stared grabbing the guns away from the robbers before they could shoot. Then this blue blur came in and started rushing round the robbers. It was a person, I think, moving really, really fast. Everyone else, all the hostages and the robbers looked like they were in treacle - they were reacting but so slowly. So I figured they had it sorted so I left. I passed a girl floating in the corridor. I think they were Les Amis."

"They were, I saw them as well. Hell, I even had a chat with Inferno."  
"...You what?! R, you idio-"  
"I'll tell you later. We need to get out of here. Meet you by the truck."

A moment later Grantaire was waiting, entirely visible by the rubbish truck from earlier. The air shimmered next to him and Eponine appeared. "I need an explanation," she demanded, "Now."

Grantaire sighed, "Let's walk and talk." He explained everything that happened as they made their way over to the crowd of onlookers. By the time he reached the end of his story the police were leading out the bank robbers, their hands tied by what looked like vines. Paramedics carried out the three unconscious ones on stretchers. Hostages were being led out, wrapped in shock blankets. One woman was already loudly talking to a reporter and Grantaire could hear her words, "It was Les Amis! They saved our lives - it was amazing, they were so fast and strong!"

The little boy he had seen earlier broke free from the crowd and ducked under the police tape. He hurtled into the arms of a raven-haired woman yelling "Mama!" The pair hugged as people around them cooed. The scene made Grantaire's gut twist and he looked away sadly.

"You idiot!" exclaimed Eponine, drawing him back to reality, "You talked to him? Now he's going to be looking out for you!"

"It's not like he knows who I am!" Grantaire defended himself, "Anyway, who talked to the hostages when invisible? I'm pretty freaked out by your disembodied voice and I know that you can do that!"

"They were thinking of making a run for it! I had to stop them, and-"

Her words were cut off by a shout of her name across the crowd. An auburn haired, freckled boy was making his way towards them, followed by a taller, dark-haired boy. Both of them were wearing white t-shirts and jeans and carrying identical tan backpacks.

"Marius!" exclaimed Eponine, blushing "How are you?"

"I'm good! I haven't seen you in ages, how's life?" said the boy reaching them.

"Good as well. You remember Grantaire, right?"

"Yeah, your roomate?" Marius turned to Grantaire and held out his hand.Grantaire vaguely remembered the clumsy boy who had moved away a few months ago. He didn't know that Eponine had been such good 'friends' with him. As he reached out to shake the guy's hand he felt a flicker of recognition. When he grasped Marius' hand he jumped back, feeling the electric shock. Marius flinched back and apologised, "I'm so sorry! Static shocks, right? Must be all these police cars." He gave a nervous laugh. 

Grantaire nodded and laughed, feeling a suspicion creeping up on him. It had been auburn hair, underneath the helmet mask... Marius introduced his roomate Courfeyrac, as Grantaire stared at the pair of them. It would be too much a coincidence if he was right but he couldn't help but wonder. The matching outfits were weird but from memory Marius hadn't been the most normal guy. Still...

"I'm part an activist group, we're at the Café Musain," explained Courfeyrac in answer to a question from Eponine that Grantaire hadn't heard, lost in his theory, "You should come along, meetings are on Thursday evenings, starting at six o'clock."

"It's not really our type of thing, sorry-," began Eponine but Grantaire interrupted her, "That sounds really interesting! We'll be there. Sorry, but I've got to be at work in a few minutes. See you at 6:00 tomorrow then." He dragged Eponine away from them but she shook him off.

"An activist group?" she asked in disbelief, "Seriously, R? You're a self-proclaimed cynic."  
"Yeah I know but I've got a couple of suspicions I want to confirm. Your crush might be LiveWire from Les Amis but I'm not sure yet. Hey, it will be funny anyway," replied Grantaire.

"What, Marius? Yeah right - he's sweet but not a Superhero," Eponine replied in disbelief, "Wait, my crush? No, he's a friend."  
"Uh-huh. Your face is as red as his hair from just talking to him."  
"Shut up you prick!"  
"Not a chance!

 


	5. Our Fate Cannot Be Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do not be afraid, our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.” - Dante

Eponine slumped beside Grantaire on their worn, green leather sofa which they had affectionately nicknamed 'Daisy'. He glanced at her sympathetically and she grimaced. 

"It's official," she announced sadly, "Azelma hates me. And once she tells Gavroche he'll hate me as well." Grantaire made a sympathetic noise and handed her the bottle of wine sitting on the arm of the sofa next to him. She swigged straight from the bottle instead of taking the proffered glass. 

"She hates you as well," Eponine told him bluntly, "She says that you are an absolute bastard for not talking me out of this."   
"Fair enough," admitted Grantaire.   
"It's just, I know we need to do this. We can't risk seeing them again but at the same time they're my brother and sister. I don't know how I not see them again. I was supposed to take care of them!" exclaimed Eponine, "And I couldn't even explain why! To them it's going to seem like I just abandoned them and decided not to adopt them! I promised I'd get them out of that horrible place! No one deserves to grow up there, we know that."  
"Gavroche is only twelve, he won't stay bitter about it. And Zelma's fifteen, she's going to move on and grow up soon enough. It's for the best," comforted Grantaire stealing the bottle back.   
"I know, I know," agreed Eponine, "It's just, I'm going to miss them."  
Grantaire put the bottle back on the arm of the sofa and pulled her in for a hug. She snuffled into his shoulder and muttered, "'m not crying." Her words were muffled by his green hoodie.  
"Of course you aren't," agreed Grantaire, rubbing Eponine's back.  
"It's not just that, either. I mean, of course I'm upset about Gav and Zelma but it's also this whole Powers thing. I just can't stop thinking about that woman; the one who was killed. I can't stop wondering what if.."

Grantaire tensed up at Eponine's words. He knew what she meant. The blonde woman had not left his mind since he saw her, lying dead on the bank floor. She was behind his eyelids everytime he blinked and he wished he could have done something, anything to save her. He could feel the too familiar guilt rising once again, clawing up inside him and corroding away defenses he had spent the last year holding up. He guessed that Eponine was feeling the same thing.  

"I know what you mean," he murmured, "but we couldn't have done anything. She was dead before we even realised that there was stuff going on. It's not our fault." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more that Eponine.   
"Yeah, logically we didn't have the chance to save her. But I still feel awful about it. I don't want to feel this awful again, R."   
"You won't. We won't," promised Grantaire, "It's normal to feel upset after what we saw in there. We can get through this, don't worry." 

Eponine drew away from him and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. She gulped looked down and then back up at him. Her next words spilled out of her in a nervous rush. "The thing is, I don't think that it can be a one-off day. I don't think that I can just go back to living normally now that I've used my Powers like that. Yeah, it was exhausting and I spent the rest of the day half-asleep, but it gave me this sort of rush and I want to feel that again. And I don't think I can sit around doing nothing when I know I could do something to save people." 

Grantaire bit his lip. Then he exhaled steadily and nodded. "Neither can I," he admitted, "There was just this Something about actually using Powers in a real situation. It's going to be really dangerous but I'm feeling the same." He didn't admit to the thrill he got when he knocked the robbers out, or the surge of power that went through him as he saved Inferno. He wanted to feel that again. Grantaire was an addict, and he knew the familiar feeling. He was craving for that sensation.   
   
"We should have costumes," Eponine suggested with a giggle. Grantaire gave a snort, "And what? We end up in spandex like Les Amis? I think I'd look good in a catsuit, what do you think?"  
"We should both get catsuits. Matching ones. And a catchphrase like Team Rocket."  
They were both laughing, slouched on the sofa as the door slammed open. Azelma entered, followed by Gavroche. 

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded, standing in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips. She was only 15 but there was something very scary about Azelma when she was angry, something that she got from her older sister. Gavroche stood beside her, arms folded and scowling. Eponine struggled to sit up, almost spilling the bottle of wine she was holding. "Azelma! Gavroche! Shit! Why are you here? How did you get in here?" she asked in horror.

 "You left your front door unlocked again, but that's not the point," Azelma replied, "I know you. You would never just phone up like that and tell us that with no explaination. So what's going on? Gav and I are old enough to know!"   
"We just can't take care of you properly," Eponine told her sister desperately, stepping away from the pair and pulling Grantaire with her, "You need to go. You shouldn't be here."   
"Bullshit." stated Azelma, "You've both been working hard, and the social workers said it was fine. You're both not doing anything like drugs or crime, as far as we know. Wait. Are you doing drugs and stuff again? You idiots, remember how badly that turned out? Are you high right now? Is that why you're backing away? Oh my god!" Her voice had risen to an angry shriek as she stared at them in horror.

"We're not high or doing drugs or anything criminal," interrupted Grantaire impatiently.   
"No, no of course not. I can't explain, please. Go away. I'll call you tonight," pleaded Eponine.   
Azelma glared at her and shook her head, wind whipping her hair around.   
"We want a proper explaination!" piped up Gavroche who had been unusually quiet.   
Eponine shook her head desperately, "I can't. Please leave." The wind made her coat billow, knocking against the wall behind her.   
"Why not?!" yelled Azelma as a gust of wind scattered a bunch of papers which had been sitting on the stained, wooden coffee table across the well-worn rug.

 Grantaire looked towards the window and swore under his breath. "'Ponine, there's no point. We might as well tell them. They're old enough to deal with it."  
Eponine turned on him fiercely, "R! What the hell! I thought you were on my side in this!"  
Grantaire put his hand on her arm. "I am," he reassured her, "It's just that's an awful lot of wind for a closed window and neither of us are causing it."  
Gavrouche snickered like a twelve-year old would at a fart reference while Azelma looked confused. The wind quieted to a light breeze as Eponine ran a hand through her hair. "That was way faster than it was with us," she pointed out in a broken sounding voice.  
"They're younger," replied R.   
"True," then turning to Azelma and Gavroche she instructed, "You better sit down. What do you know about Mutants?" 

\----------------

Combeferre leant back in his chair and frowned in confusion at Enjolras. "So, you're saying that your shadow saved your life?" he checked.  
"No!" sighed Enjolras in exasperation, "A shadow saved me. Not my shadow. They were a person, a Super, who looked like a shadow."   
"Are you sure it wasn't your shadow or something?" asked Combeferre in doubt.  
"Yes!" exclaimed Enjolras angrily, "It definitely was not my shadow. Marius and Musichetta saw him as well. Ask them!"  
"No, we believe you," said Courfeyrac in a calm, comforting voice, "It's just all a bit weird. I mean, you talk to a shadow who no one else sees - no, Marius and 'Chetta thought they saw something dark out of the corner of their eyes and felt a presence. It's not the same as actually seeing or talking to it."   
"Not 'it', 'them'. They were a person," corrected Enjolras through gritted teeth, "Well, I talked to someone else in there. I don't care what you say. There were other Mutants in there. Just look at the newspaper reports. The people in the vault said an invisible woman talked them into staying still and waiting for help to come instead of fighting the robbers, saving their lives. Why are you so determined to believed there weren't other Supers in there?" 

Combeferre and Courfeyrac gave each other a pointed look as they sat side-by-side on the sofa. Enjolras scowled at his best friends from a red arm chair.   
"It's just that it's amazing that Les Amis is made up of as many Mutants as it is," Combeferre explained, "The biggest ever recorded group of Mutants in one place was seven, and they weren't working together either. We're ten, plus one of the leading scientists on Powers in the country. The odds of us coming across more Supers is almost impossible, especially if they're 'allies'."  
"Odds can go to hell," said Enjolras, scowling, "I talked to them. There were other Mutants in there, I talked to one. Anyway, haven't the amount of people developing Powers been increasing quickly over the past few years?"  
"Not this quickly," Courfeyrac protested, "It wouldn't spread this quickly. But we'll have to tell Mabeuf about this. He'll want to know." 

"What will I want to know?" asked Mabeuf as he limped into the living room, holding a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird. The three jumped guiltily and he gave them a suspicious look which quickly faded to fondness. He had the type of face which always reverted to a Grandfatherly gentleness, no matter how harsh he was being. When neither of the three answered he said kindly, "Well, whatever it was, well done on the mission earlier today. You did really well and saved a lot of lives."   
"Enjolras saw another Mutant," blurted out Courfeyrac. Mabeuf's brows furrowed and he glanced at Enjolras who nodded, chipping in, "And Fueilly hacked the newspapers, just a routine check that none of them had any clear pictures of us and there are several interviews which suggest an invisible Mutant was in the vault with the hostages, keeping them calm."   
"Three of the robbers were found unconcious and it is difficult to keep track of who did what in the middle of an operation but we still aren't sure who knocked them out," explained Combeferre.  
"One of them was knocked out by the Shadow. I didn't notice them and the Shadow stopped them from shooting me. I had a short conversation with the Shadow," continued Enjolras, "They were sort of irritating actually." 

"Other Mutants?" asked Mabeuf, sitting down beside the three. He placed the copy of To Kill a Mockingbird on the coffee table and was silent for a long time. The group stared anxiously at him. He took a deep breath and adjusted his glasses before speaking. "Statistically, that is impossible. Then again, it's almost impossible that ten of us are a group. And I can't help but wonder-" Mabeuf left the sentence hanging as he stared intently down at the coffee table, frowning. 

"Can't help but wonder what? Is it about the Academy?" ventured Combeferre tentatively. Mabeuf was snapped out of his revery and looked back up to the three faces staring curiously at him.   
"As you know, I don't really like talking about what happened at the Academy," began Mabeuf, "The things we did there to Supers before it closed, well, it was terrible. But it's not about that. It's about the meteor."

Courfeyrac frowned and interrupted, "Wait - do you mean the one that crashed into Los Angeles and started this whole Mutants thing? But that was over a fifty years ago! What does that have to do with this?"   
Mabeuf sighed and continued, "As I was about to explain, the meteor. It was only decades after the crash when scientists decided to take a closer look at what sort of radiation had caused the Supergene to mutate. They went and collected it from the ruins of the city, it wasn't that big - only about the size of a small car, and put it on a truck and took it to a research facility in New Mexico. I had nothing to do with the research there, the Academy was in New York but I did learn quite a bit about it. A colleague of mine was sent to investigate an unusual amount of Mutant sightings in a small town in California. He didn't return due to a confrontation with a rather Powerful teenager, but a few days later another scientist was sent to take a look at a town only a hundred miles or so up the road. Eventually, after a few more investigation, it was realised that the towns showing an unusual amount of Mutant sightings were towns which the truck carrying the meteor stopped in, even just for a few minutes. The meteor was still producing radiation which was causing anyone with the Supergene who was exposed to it to mutate in hours. It was a far more powerful reaction than we had ever seen before, the people exposed to the radiation spread it much more easily. We even had cases of whole families becoming Mutants, which caused the gene theory. It was hushed up by the government as they didn't want anyone to panic; this was back when people were still terrified of Mutants and they kept the meteor away from people who hadn't been exposed. But, with all the Mutants that are cropping up in this city suddenly and the new base - I can't help but wonder..."

He trailed off and Courfeyrac's eyes widened. "You think that new military base outside town might have the meteor?" he asked.  
Mabeuf gave a small shrug, "I couldn't say. But the newspaper article on it was very vauge and what with all of you developing powers within the last few months, well, I can't help but theorise."  
Combeferre cut in, "But if the effects were so bad why would they move it into a populated area? The last thing the government wants is more Mutants. They might not hate us as much as they did but we are still a danger they want to avoid."  
Enjolras snorted, "The government still hates Mutants. We're uncontrollable and nothing can fight us, apart from other mutants. They've let us exist for so long because of Superheroes but it doesn't mean they like having us around. We're a threat."  
Mabuef nodded gravely, "You're right, of course. Mutants, even Supers, are a threat to everyone. If you ever decided to turn on the government rather than criminals - you'd be practically unstoppable. There are a few cases of Supervillains before, but they've been few and far between and easily defeated by Superheroes."

"What I don't get is why the meteor is at a military base," mused Combeferre, "Maybe it's a military-funded lab or something, but if it was I don't understand why they'd need the meteor. It's weird."  
"And why is it in France now?" pointed out Courfeyrac.  
"It must have got here somehow. I'll ask Feuilly to check if there have been any Mutant sightings at airports or along major roots," said Enjolras quickly, "He's the best at hacking, so he should be able to get into the confidential files."  
"That seems like the best idea, for now," Mabeuf agreed, "It may not be true - I sincerely hope it is not true, but there is no harm in checking." 

Combeferre nodded and got up, murmuring that he'd tell Feuilly.   
Mabeuf looked sternly at Courfeyrac and Combeferre for several moments.   
"As I said, I may be wrong. But if there is something to do with the government and Mutants, you are all going to have to be very careful and prepared for the worst," he told them seriously, before shakily standing up and and leaving the room. Courfeyrac and Enjolras were left in a crushing silence, not sure what was going to happen to them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated powers list:  
> Enjolras: light, fire, heat control   
> Combeferre: Psychometry of people, places and objects. Able to slow time or speed it up around him   
> Courfeyrac: shape-shifting   
> Jehan Prouvaire: control of plants   
> Joly: regeneration/healing abilities and can project symptoms of diseases   
> Bossuet L'aigle: premonition but also good at archery, so he's kind of a pyschic-Hawkeye  
> Alexander Feuilly: super-speed   
> Luc Bahorel: super-strength and enduribility   
> Musichetta Girad: manipulating gravity   
> Marius Pontmercy: controls electricity   
> Eponine Thenardier: invisibility and intangibility   
> Nicolas Grantaire: shadows/darkness and cold manipulation 
> 
> Gavroche Thenardier: super-senses and teleportation  
> Azelma Thenadier: wind and weather control


	6. Here Begins a New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “In that book which is my memory,  
> On the first page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you,  
> Appear the words, ‘Here begins a new life’.” - Dante

Eponine and Grantaire walked towards the Café Musain side by side. 

"I still refuse to believe that Marius and his friends are Les Amis. I mean, he's a really nice guy but he's hardly a superhero," she said doubtfully. Grantaire raised an eyebrow. They'd had the same conversation several hundred times since Grantaire had told her his theory. He had almost convinced her but she was still trying to tell herself it wasn't true.  
"Yeah, yeah. We'll see," he replied, pushing the door of the Musain open. There was a bell on the top of the door which rang as they entered, making everyone turn to look at them. 

The café itself was pretty much your normal, hipster, fairtrade cafe. There was the traditional unplastered wall behind the bar which was hung with chalk boards displaying a wide range of coffees and teas. A variety of homemade cakes and sandwiches were displayed at the bar. A bookshelf took up most of one wall and was filled with dog-eared paperbacks while the table and chairs were all old and mismatched, giving the place a vintage atmosphere. There were a loads of thriving pot-plants next to actual sacks of coffee beans which was pretty pretentious but smelt heavenly. It was pretty nice, Grantaire had to admit, but the thing he was most interested in was the people. 

There were a few normal looking customers, engrossed in their books or laptops scattered around the edges of the room but what drew Grantaire's eye the most was the large group in the middle. He nudged Eponine and nodded at them. "Ten Amis - nine in the group and all looking like they're waiting for someone. Just a coincidence?" he muttered. She scowled at him and shook her head slightly. 

Marius looked up from where he was chatting to a guy with very hipster glasses and a Edgar Allen Poe t-shirt, spotting the pair. He bounded over to them like an overly-large puppy, bumping into at least four chairs on the way but somehow managing to stay standing and look enthusiastic. 

"You came!" he exclaimed delightedly. Grantaire rolled his eyes as Eponine's voice became sweet and went up at least an octave. If Marius had heard her swearing last night after Gavroche and Azelma had left he probably wouldn't be quite as innocently friendly. He looked like the type of guy who would blush at any rude word and use phrases like 'sugar honey ice tea' while Grantaire and Eponine rarely went more than the occasional sentence without a 'shit' or a 'fuck' thrown in. 

Grantaire's eyes scanned the room as Eponine and Marius small-talked. He recognised Marius' "roomate", Courfeyrac who had his arm round a dainty-looking man with long auburn hair. There was a huge, muscly guy, a slight man with ginger hair and while two men stood next to the bar where a familiar, curvy woman with dark, curly hair was making drinks. 

He nudged a Eponine and discreetly gestured to the barista and murmured, "I'm pretty sure that's 'G'."  
Eponine rolled her eyes and muttered, "You willing to put money on it?"  
"Sure, how much?"  
Eponine didn't get a chance to reply as the door swung open, bringing a strong gust of wind and a tall, blond man into the room. 

"Sorry I'm late," the man announced, hurrying over to the table in the middle of the café, "I got caught up in, uh, traffic. It's always awful round here at this time."  
"Enjolras!" exclaimed Courfeyrac, "Finally! We've got some new recruits - Marius, you better introduce them."  
"Oh yeah, sorry. This is Eponine and Grantaire," said Marius but Grantaire wasn't paying much attention to him as he stared in awe at the blond. 

Enjolras was gorgeous, to say the least. He had tidy jaw-length hair which was a rich, familiar gold. Grantaire could have sworn it was glowing slightly and, if his suspicions were correct, it could well be. His skin was perfect, unmarred by any scars of spots and he looked like a bloody Michelangelo sculpture, with his strong jaw and perfect, symmetrical features. Enjolras' angelic looks made Grantaire painfully aware of his too large nose, unruly hair and his lopsided mouth. His hands itched to paint the man's perfect face. But it wasn't just that. There was something in the way Enjolras stood, proud and tall, which was undeniably beautiful. Heroic, almost.

Grantaire knew, with the utmost certainty, that he was looking at Inferno. 

"Nice to meet you," said Enjolras absent-mindedly, nodding generally in their direction. He'd was staring at the man in the glasses who had raised his eyebrows. They seemed to be communicating entirely through facial twitches which Grantaire found fascinating, though he'd probably find reading Enjolras' electricity bills fascinating. 

"Anyway, I better introduce you to everyone," said Marius, acting like a happy puppy and breaking Grantaire out of his revery. He seemed oblivious of how smiley and flirty Eponine was acting around him. Grantaire was kind of feeling the urge to lock them in a small room together and he had only been round the pair for about five minutes. 

"Over by the bar, that's Bossuet and Joly. Bossuet is the bald one and is clumsier than me, if you'll believe, and Joly is a med student," explained Marius, gesturing to the pair who grinned and raised a hand in greeting, "The barista is Musichetta, their girlfriend, who owns the Musain and lets us use it for our meetings."  
Musichetta smiled at Eponine and Grantaire kindly. "You want anything to drink?" she offered and Grantaire immediately recognised her voice from the bank, although it was softer and friendlier now.  
"Uh, yeah thanks. You do Irish coffee?" he asked, fishing out his wallet and desperalty hoping that the coffees weren't too pricey and when she nodded he continued, "Just do it about 50-50." There were a few raised eyebrows at his request but no one commented as Eponine jumped in with her order, "I'll just have a normal coffee. Black, like my soul." 

She flushed slightly as she realised what she said but Musichetta cracked a smile and there was an appreciative chuckle from behind them. Turning to the main group Eponine and Grantaire saw the dainty looking man with long plaited, auburn hair grinning at them. "Jean Prouvaire, just call me Jehan though," he said, shaking their hands solemnly. In the other hand he was holding a worn copy of TS Eliot's 'The Wasteland' which didn't seem to Grantaire like the choice reading material for a man with yellow flowers in his hair but Jehan seemed friendly enough. Courfeyrac gave Eponine and Grantaire a large smile.  
"Nice to see you again, I'm glad you could come along," he greeted them. 

"This is Bahorel and that's Feuilly," introduced Marius, gesturing to the mountain of a man and the slighter but equally scary ginger guy who had been arguing with Bahorel in a polish accent. They nodded at Grantaire and Eponine familiarly As the pair sat down on two of the free, surprisingly comfortable chairs and Musichetta delivered their respective coffees. The room fell into silence as Enjolras stepped to the front and cleared his throat. 

"The issue I'd like to talk about today is the rise in these 'anti-homeless spikes'" he started. His voice was clear and precise but powerful and Grantaire immediately knew he was in deep shit. A voice like that could convince him to do anything. He took a sip of his coffee which was very good but very hot and listened to Enjolras talk. 

"For anyone who isn't aware, these are spikes put on areas of ground to prevent any one who is homeless from sleeping there. It's turning the ground into a punishment for anyone who is desperate enough to need to sleep there. It's cruel, and something that we definitely need to oppose.  
"They started in London and were met with disgust from many sides; even the mayor spoke out against the, but they're still spreading and recently they began appearing in our city. Obviously this is a terrible, inhumane thing and I think we'd all agree that we should do all we can to get them removed. If a country is judged by how it treats it's weakest members, what is this saying about France?  
"Our first step should be to start a petition, try to bring attention to the injustice." 

Grantaire gave a quiet laugh at this, but he, wasn't quiet enough. Enjolras turned to him, eyes cold.  
"I'm sorry, is there something funny?" he asked with a lot of ice in his voice for someone who controlled fire.  
"Not really, it's just - you think a petition is going to work?" Grantaire asked doubtfully, trying unsuccessfully to keep the laugh out of his question.  
Enjolras' expression was harsh as he replied, "It would help bring attention to the injustice and if it was refused it would encourage people to support the cause."  
"Yeah right," snorted Grantaire. Enjolras' expression became furious, his cheeks flushing. It would have been comical if it hadn't been gorgeous. Grantaire swore inwardly as he realised that he was going to spend a lot of time trying to get the same passionate indignation to appear on the man's face. 

"What do you mean?" asked Enjolras frostily. Eponine nudged Grantaire, warning him while the others in the café muttered in suprise. Marius gave a slightly awkward cough but Grantaire ignored him, staring unashamedly up at Enjolras as he tilted back in his chair.  
"Well, for a start people won't sign the petition cause they don't care," Grantaire told Enjolras, enjoying the way the blond man was glaring at him. It was admittedly very attractive. "Unless they are, or were, homeless people just aren't going to care about stuff like that. In fact, loads of richer people in the city centre would support the idea. No one wants to wander outside to find a smelly hobo sleeping on their doorstep - a petition isn't going to do anything."  
"That is the type of attitude we need to destroy!" protested Enjolras angrily, "They aren't 'smelly hobos', as you so eloquently put it, they're people who don't have a proper place to sleep. You're classifying them as pests instead of human beings!"  
"I'm not doing anything," said Grantaire, a grin playing round his lips as he raised his hands in mock-defense, "I'm just saying how people are going to look at it. Anyway, this type of thing has been going on for years; benches designed so you can't lie on them properly, surfaces under bridges made uneven so they're uncomfortable to sleep or skate one, etcetera. The anti-homeless spikes are just more honest than others. It's saying something that everyone's been thinking for years. You're going to need way more than a petition to change people's attitudes - it's as stupidly optimistic as, I don't know, Superheroes." 

He took another sip of the coffee, very satisfied with the slight intake of breath from the members of the activist group. Eponine kicked his leg under the table but even she had noticed how the group had stiffened. The look of fury on Enjolras' face was exquisite but there was something slightly panicky in his eyes as Grantaire mentioned Superheroes, silently confirming all his suspicions. Suprisingly he still spoke calmly, in a voice which could have sunk the Titanic. "This is an activist group dedicated to changing things for the better - in whatever way we choose," he said, not taking his eyes of Grantaire, "We have no need for drunken cynics who are distainful towards our cause. If you can't be respectful just get out and leave us be." 

Grantaire shrugged, putting on a much more relaxed face than he felt as he stood up. To be honest, Enjolras' tone terrified him slightly.  
"Cool. 'Ponine, I'm off. I'll see you guys around then," he said, swinging his coat off the back of his chair. Eponine gave a weary sigh and made to do the same. 

As Grantaire reached the door he turned back to the silent group, a smile playing around his lips but not reaching his eyes. Enjolras was still staring at him dangerously.  
"One last thing, as someone who's been homeless before; no one living on the streets wants to be referred to a as a 'cause'. You said it yourself: they're people who don't have a place to sleep."

Grantaire enjoyed watching the fury melt away from Enjolras' face as his eyes widened but he didn't stay to revel for long, instead sweeping out of the door, coat billowing out behind him. It was one of his many fatal flaws, Grantaire was often overly dramatic. 

As the door swung shut, the bell tinkling behind them Grantaire heard the angry voice of Courfeyrac exclaim, "For god's sake, Enjolras!" Grantaire reveled for a moment in his miniature victory but his internal celebration was interrupted by Eponine cuffing him hard on the back of his head. 

"I was right though - they're Les Amis," he said but Eponine just let out a long suffering sigh.

\---------

As Grantaire and Eponine approached their building, after a long walk back filled with Eponine loudly scolding him about being polite to Marius' friends, they saw a large car parked on the pavement, surrounded by cardboard boxes, in front of the door. A blonde girl in a long tan coat was struggling with a large crate of books, trying to balance it against her hip as she locked the car. Seeing she was having difficulty Grantaire stepped forwards. 

"Hey, you need some help?" he offered, Eponine close behind him. The girl looked up, eyes wide and grateful. She was pretty with big brown eyes and soft-looking features. Her coat fitted her perfectly and looked expensive and good quality. She looked nothing like Grantaire and Eponine's usual hard-eyed neighbours who could barely pay the rent, let alone afford a fitted coat. Grantaire wondered why someone like her was moving into a shitty, old apartment block filled with starving college students, prostitutes and drug addicts. She had a sweet air about her as she gratefully said, "Would you?" 

Grantaire nodded and took the crate from her. It was heavy but a side-effect of the Supergene mutating had been the sudden development of extra muscle. It was nothing super-human but it was useful, Grantaire had to admit. Eponine leant down and picked up one of the many boxes littering the pavement around the car with the same ease. The girl looked impressed as she locked the car. 

"Thank you so much - you're both really strong. I'm Cosette Fauchelevant, my Dad and I just moved here," she said, taking the crate back from Grantaire.  
He grinned at her. "No problem. I'm Grantaire and this is my flatmate Eponine. It's nice to meet you," he replied. As soon as he mentioned Eponine's name her mouth dropped and she suddenly looked paler. He glanced quickly at Eponine who had the same shocked and scared expression. 

"Do you two know eachother?" he asked tentatively. Cosette opened her mouth to speak but a tall, older man appeared beside her and frowned as he took in Cosette's distressed expression.  
"Cosette, what's going on? Who are these people?" he asked, taking the box from her and looking between Eponine and Cosette's pale faces with as much confusion as Grantaire. 

Cosette quickly pulled herself together, almost snatching the box back from Eponine without much effort.  
"No one. I mean- they're our new neighbours. Thanks for your help but I think we'll be fine," she snapped, looking almost desperate. The man frowned at her pointedly.  
"Cosette, be polite," he chided but there was worry in his voice. 

To Grantaire's suprise it was Eponine who spoke next, hurrying over her words.  
"No - it's fine. Don't worry. Grantaire and I had better be off anyway. Bye.. Cosette," she said, giving the pair a jerky nod and pulling Grantaire into the building and out of sight as fast as she could. Grantaire glanced back to see Cosette standing there, knuckles white as she clenched the crate handles. The door swung shut again, blocking the pair from view. 

Eponine punched the lift button with more force than necessary, even for the old broken down lift which barely worked. As the doors slid slowly shut she kept glancing behind her at the front door as if she was scared their new neighbours would suddenly barge angrily through them. 

"What the hell was that about?" asked Grantaire as they stepped into the lift. It was cramped, even with only two people and it smelt of cat pee. At least Grantaire hoped it was cat pee. When Eponine didn't reply he prompted her, "What was going on? Did you know her or something?" 

Eponine bit her lip then let out a breath she had been holding. "Yeah, I know her," she admitted cautiously.  
"Seriously? I didn't recognise her," commented Grantaire. They had spent most of their lives together so it was a fair enough assumption that Grantaire has met most of Eponine's acquaintances.  
"It was from before I knew you - back when I was living with my parents," said Eponine, not looking at Grantaire. He blinked in suprise but stayed silent, knowing his friend just needed a moment before fully explaining. Sure enough, after several seconds of silence Eponine began talking. 

"You know a bit about how I ended up in the orphanage with you, right? Basically my parents were foster parents but they contacted vulnerable parents and blackmailed them into paying them so their kids weren't mistreated. They still mistreated the kids, of course. Eventually they got caught and ran for it, leaving everyone behind. 

"But the thing was, it was because of one girl that we got caught. Her mother died and some man, a friend of her mums, came to tell her. When he saw how bad conditions were he reported it and adopted her. I'm pretty sure that was her - Cosette, and her dad as well. She recognised me and I recognised her.

"But that's not the worst of it. I mean, she and the other kids were starved and worked like slaves. But I wasn't. 'Zelma, Gav and I were all spoilt little brats. And we were awful to the kids. Completely horrible. I remember seeing Cosette playing with one of my dolls and I threw a huge fit, hitting her and stuff. I went and told my mum and she beat Cosette because of it. She must completely hate me, I was so cruel. I suppose it was partly cause of my parents - we were just copying them, we didn't know anything else but, you know?"  
"You still feel bad," finished Grantaire. Eponine didn't have to reply for him to know he had got it right. She wouldn't look at him at all, instead glaring angrily at the floor.

She finished as the doors to their floor slid open. Silently she stormed out, not looking at Grantaire as she fished out her keys and angrily stabbed them into the keyhole. Grantaire caught her wrist gently. "Hey, hey, be careful. We don't have enough money right now to afford a decent new lock so try not to break this one until I can sell another painting."

Eponine nodded but still wouldn't look at him. Grantaire knew how ashamed she was of her parents and how much she didn't want to end up like them, to the point where as soon as she had turned 16 she had changed her name from Thenardier to Jondrette. It had taken her years to be able to admit to him everything that had happened at her parent's foster home. She partly blamed herself for not standing up for any of the children and she hated that she and her siblings had been spoilt while they were treated like slaves. And he knew - only due to a secret whispered years ago under a duvet as twelve year-old Grantaire and Eponine had talked quietly, hoping no one would hear them and they wouldn't get caught in each other's room - that sometimes Eponine felt angry at the girl who had caused her parents to be found out. She felt angry that her and her siblings happy lives had been ripped away from them, forcing them into a crappy orphanage cause no one wanted anything to do with the spoilt brats of child abusers. 

He drew her into a quick hug and then let her unlock the door. They stepped into their living room, the door swinging heavily shut behind them. Dumping their bags on the table she gave another sigh. "Today has been a shitty day," she announced, then turning to glare at Grantaire, "And you did not help one bit, you fucker. Why are you so irratating? They were nice, Marius is nice!" Grantaire rolled his eyes. He loved sharing emotional moments with Eponine, it was great.  
"We've been through this already," he protested. 

"Been through what already?" asked Gavroche who had suddenly appeared behind him. Grantaire jumped and Eponine turned slightly transparent with suprise.  
"Holy shit Gavroche. If you're going to teleport into the flat at least give us some warning. You've got a phone - text us," scolded Grantaire, glaring at the boy who stared back, unashamedly. 

"You went to a cafe," he told them, completely ignoring Grantaire's very sensible advice, as usual (ignoring Grantaire's advice was probably one of the main reasons Gavroche had turned out surprisingly well adjusted). "I can smell coffee on you," he explained cockily and then wrinkled up his nose, "and whiskey. Grantaire stinks of it."  
"Thanks kiddo," said Grantaire sarcastically rolling his eyes.  
"Gavroche, stop showing off. We know you have teleportation and super-senses. Very nice. Now go home," scolded Eponine, not too harshly.  
"Fine. Nice to see you too," sighed Gavroche in a very similar way to his sister and blinked out of existence. 

"As I was saying - completely shitty day," continued Eponine turning expectantly to Grantaire who rolled his eyes. If another Thenardier/Jondrette turned up he was scared that his eyes would fall out of his head.  
"Yeah, yeah. We can watch the Pride and Prejudice episode where Colin Firth climbs out of the lake in the shirt, if you really want. I need to piss right now though," he said over his shoulder as he made his way down the corridor.  
"Thank you!" exclaimed Eponine in a sing-song voice, "You know me so well. And don't pretend that you don't have a huge crush on him as well!"  
Grantaire gave a huff of laughter as he rolled his eyes again and wondered what colour glass eyes would suit him best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to get out. I was in the middle of exam week and Duke of Edinburgh award (a big camping trip/ hiking thing with my school) so I didn't have any time to write. Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments - they mean a lot.


	7. An Uncharted Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My course is set for an uncharted sea." - Dante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras: light, fire and heat control  
> Combeferre: Psychometry of people, places and objects. Able to slow time or speed it up around him  
> Courfeyrac: shape-shifting  
> Jehan Prouvaire: control of plants  
> Joly: regeneration/healing abilities and can project symptoms of diseases  
> Bossuet L'aigle: premonition but also good at archery, so he's kind of a pyschic-Hawkeye  
> Feuilly: super-speed  
> Bahorel: super-strength and enduribility  
> Musichetta: manipulating gravity  
> Marius Pontmercy: controls electricity  
> Eponine Thenardier: invisibility and intangibility  
> Grantaire: shadows/darkness and cold manipulation 
> 
> Gavroche Thenardier: super-senses and teleportation  
> Azelma Thenadier: wind and weather control

When the doorbell rang the next afternoon when Eponine was out stocking up on groceries, Grantaire did not expect to see three of the group from the Musain outside his door. He was just relieved he had bothered to get dressed that morning. 

"Hey," he said slowly, staring at the group who were all wrapped up in multiple layers of scarfs and holding a large white box, "Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta, right?"  
The three nodded and smiled. "We brought cake," Bossuet told him, holding out the box.  
"Uh, thanks? What are you doing here?" asked Grantaire, slowly taking the cake box and stepping back to let the group into the flat. He was acutely aware of how messy it was but the three didn't seem to mind, instead starting to divulge themselves of the many items if woollen clothing.  
"We've come to extend our official apologies," Joly told him, "From everyone. We're all really sorry that Enjolras was a buttface - we even wrote it on the cake." He gestured towards the box which Grantaire opened to see a rather nice Victoria sponge with blue writing announcing 'sorry Enjolras is a cranky buttface.' He snorted with laughter. 

"Thanks," he told the group, putting the box down on the scuffed coffee table.  
"It's no problem. 'Chetta made the cake - she's the best at baking - so it's probably delicious," Bossuet explained.  
"That's not the point though. We're all being sullen at Enjolras now. He didn't have the right to say any of those things and though we don't technically have his apology, we will within the week. Combeferre is working on it and Combeferre is bloody terrifying when he wants to get something," Musichetta said, looking embarrassed at Bossuet's praise.  
"It's fine," Grantaire replied, not certain what to do with the three of them, "Do you want to sit down or..?"  
"Thank you!" Joly said chirpily, heading towards the sofa, "You know, I'm really relieved your flat is this clean. If it was anything like the rest of the building I wouldn't want to sit down."  
"Joly is very.. hygienically inclined," Musichetta told Grantaire confidentially, "We had to walk up because the lift looked dodgy."  
"It is," he said with a grin, "A cat peed in there a few weeks ago and it still hasn't been cleaned."  
Joly wrinkled his nose. "I work in the hospital," he said, still holding a pile of scarfs, "So I know human pee when I smell it. That's human pee."  
"Fuck. I was being optimistic there," Grantaire sighed, quickly warming up to the strange group who had taken over his sofa, "Do you want anything to drink? We don't have much in at the moment but Eponine was going shopping so she should be back any minute." 

Right on cue, there came a screech from outside and the sound of plastic bags being dropped. The door was flung open and Eponine stormed inside, pulling Gavroche by the ear.  
"You little twerp," she hissed at him, "I swear if you ever do that again I will shov-"  
She went quiet when she saw the three on the sofa and quickly dropped Gavroche who darted off towards the kitchen.  
"Oh," Eponine said looking at their guests, "Hey."  
"Hey," the three said in unison.  
"What are you doing here?" she asked, looking slightly confused.  
"We brought cake and apologies," Bossuet explained, gesturing towards the box on the table.  
There was an excited noise from the kitchen and Gavroche poked his head round the door. "Cake?" he asked hopefully. Eponine shook her head.  
"Not a chance," she said with an evil glare shot towards her little brother, "Go pick up the bags you made me drop."  
"But it's my birthday," he whined, heading slowly towards the still open front door.  
"It's not your birthday for another three months. I'm your sister - I was there when you were born," Eponine said and rolling her eyes. Gavroche sighed and muttered something about child labour as he disappeared outside. 

Attention turned back to the three on the sofa and Grantaire noticed Bossuet was clutching his head and grimacing in pain.  
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked and Joly and Musichetta quickly turned worriedly to Bossuet.  
"I'm fine," he said, "It's just a migrane - can I use your toilet quickly, please?"  
"It's the first door on the left," Grantaire told him, "There's aspirin in the top drawer if you want some?"  
"I'm fine thanks, I get headaches a lot," Bossuet said, getting up and heading towards the bathroom. 

Everyone's eyes followed him as he dashed to the toilet. Joly bit his lip and Musichetta had already pulled out her phone to text someone.  
"Bossuet gets migraines so we should probably get him home," Joly told Grantaire and Eponine. They nodded uncertainly.  
"But you're welcome to come back to the Musain, if you want," Musichetta told them, pocketing the phone and standing up, "That's what we came here to tell you - don't take any notice of Enjolras, he doesn't know when to shut up." 

Bossuet emerged from the bathroom, head tilted back and a tissue under his nose. He gave Joly and Musichetta a meaningful look before turning to Eponine and Grantaire.  
"Thanks," he said, his voice a bit muffled, "It was cool seeing you again. You should come back to the Musain."  
"Enjoy the cake!" Joly said cheerfully as the group hurried out of the door, passing a slightly confused looking Gavroche who was holding several plastic bags full of groceries. 

"They left quickly," he commented raising an eyebrow, "Did 'Ponine scare them away?"  
She spun round to glare at him. "Gav, if you teleport to directly in front of me one more time I will ground you," she hissed.  
"How? I can teleport," her younger brother pointed out.  
"I will take get R to hide the TV remote in his shadow dimension thing then. And the computer. For a whole month," she told him folding her arms and smiling confidently.  
"What! No, that's unfair," Gavroche protested, "R.. You won't will you?"  
But Grantaire was too busy frowning at the door Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta had just exited through. 

"Hey, 'Ponine. I'm not a medical expert - but do migraines give you nose-bleeds?" he asked slowly.  
"I don't know," she replied with a shrug and then caught the expression on Grwntaire's face. "No. No way," she told him firmly.  
"But.."  
"You're as bad as Gav. They brought us cake. We aren't following them."  
"But aren't you a little bit curious?" Grantaire whined, "Just a tiny bit."  
Eponine looked conflicted. "Gav, go home - Grantaire and I need to discuss adult stuff," she instructed her younger brother.  
"Can I take the cake?"  
"You already are," said Eponine dryly but Gavroche missed the joke and his eyes lit up, "No! Go home."  
He sighed then disappeared with a faint 'pop'.

Eponine turned to Grantaire who was shrugging his coat on.  
"We can't just follow them," she protested weakly.  
"Hey - no one will know. They won't see us," Grantaire told her, tossing her grey jacket to her, "And if I'm wrong, which I'm not, you will have the satisfaction of me looking like an idiot. Plus, I'll let you choose what we eat for the next week."  
"Deal," said Eponine, grabbing the jacket and pulling it on quickly.  
"We better get going if we want to catch them up," he said, already slipping into the shadows. Eponine rolled her eyes.  
"I can't believe I'm letting you convince me," she said as she faded from sight and pulled the door shut behind them, "I hate you, you know?"  
"Nah, you love me really," said Grantaire with a laugh, moving towards the stairwell.  
"No," came a disembodied voice from just in front of him, making him jump, "I hate you." 

\--------

Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta were certainly in a hurry and Bossuet's headache seemed to have diminished quickly. Instead of stumbling along, head in hands, like he had left the apartment - he was talking quickly, gesturing wildly while Joly spoke quickly into a phone. Grantaire wondered what he was saying but didn't want to risk getting any closer. He wondered if Eponine was any closer and could here what was going on. 

The three suddenly turned down an alley and stopped. Grantaire approached them cautiously. It was somehow getting a bit difficult to move around Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta. Leaves were dropping from a tree just at the edge of the alley. The one furthest from Grantaire spun normally, dropping quickly to the floor. However, one fell slightly towards him and suddenly slowed down a huge amount, barely moving. Grantaire wondered how easy it would be to reach over and pluck the leaf out of the air when usually it moved faster than he could imagine. 

He heard a slight sound behind him and turned his head, seeing nothing.  
"'Ponine?" he whispered accusativley.  
"Guilty," her voice said, "This is what happened in the vault - it's like time slows down."  
Grantaire nodded, then realised Eponine couldn't see him and made an affirmative noise. Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta all looked expectant, he noted. Finally, one of the group at the Musain stepped into the alley, obviously in a hurry.  
"Combeferre!" said Joly in a relieved voice, "We need to get to the police station within eight minutes - something's going to happen but Bossuet isn't sure what."  
"Bossuet's psychic? That's awesome," muttered Eponine. Grantaire raised his eyebrows at her awed tone. "Yeah, you can turn invisible and intangible while I manipulate shadows. Being psychic isn't much different. Welcome to being a Mutant," he said sarcastically and was rewarded with an invisible elbow to the ribs. 

The pair falls silent as Combeferre speaks, "Yes we can get there in eight minutes. What do you know about what's waiting for us there?"  
"Not much," Bossuet admits, "Just that's it's powerful - maybe even Super powerful. I can't tell, it's all scrambled."  
"Super powerful?" Combeferre asks, his voice alarmed, "Are you sure?" Bossuet nodded and he drew in a sharp breath, "That's bad, really bad."  
"How?" asks Musichetta, "There must be other Supers around - what if they're bad? We're working together, we're trained and powerful."  
"It could be that pair from the bank," Joly points out, "The one that Enjolras saw and the one in the vault with the prisoners. They could be at the police station."  
Bossuet shakes his head, "They helped people - whatever this is, it's malicious. I did get the slightest feeling of whoever those Supers were, I think. Whatever the threat is, it feels different. Worse."  
"If you're sure," says Combeferre hesitantly, "Then we should go. Slowing time here is exhausting me - I should save my energy for where I might need it."

There was a blur, as time sped forwards and then the three were gone.  
"Well that fell through," Grantaire said with a sigh, turning to head back to the apartment.  
"We should go to the police station - I want to see what's going on," Eponine said, catching his arm before he left and slowly becoming visible.  
"It's halfway across the city. There's no way we can get there in time without Powers that could help us," Grantaire argued, "We can't slow down time or move at super speeds so we can't get there within eight minutes."  
"No, we don't have powers that could get us there," she replied pulling out a phone, "But you know who does?" 

Gavroche appeared as soon as Eponine called and told him where they were.  
"What do you want?" he asked.  
"Gav, don't be rude," Eponine admonished, "You said you could carry people and objects when you teleport?"  
Her little brother's face lit up and he nodded, "Yeah - I teleported 'Zelma and her bags to school yesterday when we were late. It's really awesome."  
"You think you could take me and R somewhere?" she asked and Gav tilted his head.  
"Maybe not at the same time and it depends how far away it is. Like if it's Australia or somewhere I can't get there - I've tried. I could probably get you to Russia but that's exhausting and I doubt I could do both and get you back."  
"Okay, one at a time and we only need go to the police station. Also - you are not allowed to go to Russia. In fact, don't teleport anywhere that isn't in Paris. New rule."  
Gavroche stuck his tounge out, "It's not like you can stop me. You won't even know."  
"I will implant a tracking device in you if necessary," Eponine threatened, "Now can you get us to the police station?" Gavroche sighed and grabbed his sisters arm. The pair blinked out of existence but a second later Gavroche was back, grabbing Grantaire and suddenly they were gone. The world whirled around them, rearranging itself as the police station. Grantaire's ears popped and he felt nauseous. Eponine was sitting on the curb, slightly transparent and looking like she was going to be sick.

"Wimps," Gavroche said fondly, "Anyway, why are you here? Did you do something? Are you going to hand yourselves in?"  
"No, we didn't do anything," Grantaire told him, stumbling to sit beside Eponine, "We're here on Powers stuff."  
Gavroche perked up, "Oh! Can I stick around?"  
"No."  
"Please - I have better Powers than you do."  
"Definitely no. Go home."  
Gavroche opened his mouth to argue but something occured to him and he stopped, closing his mouth and scowling.  
"Fine. See you," he said before disappearing. 

"That was his 'I've got revenge planned face'," Grantaire pointed out. Eponine nodded in agreement, still looking queasy.  
"If you're sick and do it as in ghost form, is the vomit also ghost form?" wondered Grantaire outloud.  
"I'll puke on you and we can find out," Eponine said grumpily.  
"Aw, come on. Don't be like that," he replied, climbing to his feet and pulling her up, "Let's stalk Superheroes, that's what we're here for."

The pair hid themselves in the shadows just in time. A stray cat wondered past, yowling. Grantaire's eyes tracked it in boredom and he started when the cat disappeared behind a bush and Marius' 'roomate', Courfeyrac appeared, wearing only shorts. He approached the police station casually, getting several strange looks from people around him. Courfeyrac could get away with not wearing a shirt, Grantaire decided admiringly, but it did look strange for someone to walk around topless in the middle of autumn.  
Grantaire began to follow him and he heard the slight rustle that meant Eponine was walking with him. 

There was suddenly a scream from inside the police station and Courfeyrac began sprinting towards it. Grantaire sped up to follow him, a person-less shadow racing across the brick wall. The screams continued, high and loud and people turned toward the building, either running away or trying to see what was going on. As everyone's attention turned away from the shirtless man, Courfeyrac jumped and landed as a grey hound, sprinting towards the doors which had begun to shut automatically. The greyhound which was Courfeyrac slipped through and Grantaire was left on the outside. He kept running though, closing his eyes as he was about to hit the door and then finding himself on the other side, somehow having passed through the shadows of the door.

He stopped, the too-sudden transition making him feel sick again. The screaming came from a room upstairs but Grantaire felt too dizzy to head towards it. He saw a blue blur pass him and unsteadily he began to follow where it had disappeared to, somewhere towards the source of the screaming. There was a lot of shouting and the screaming continued. 

Grantaire stumbled toward the source of all the noise, hoping Eponine was there. He wasn't sure if he was visible or not - he was pretty sure he was in shadow form but whether he was keeping in the dark spots was a mystery. The jump from outside to inside had disorientated him and the world was spinning slightly. As he walked slowly his head began to clear and the ground beneath him became steadier. He willed himself to melt back into the shadows and followed the shouting and muddy footprints which dotted the hall. A few employees of the police station rushed past him looking scared but Grantaire ignored them.

He saw Les Amis de l'ABC grouped outside a large door which had a name tag saying 'Rene Gaugirard - Chief of Police'. The screaming was coming from inside. It was a woman's voice, frantic and terrified. One of Les Amis, as Grantaire got closer he saw it must be Bossuet, was crouched on the ground, head in his hands and moaning. A figure that looked like Joly was standing above him, pressing his palms to the exposed skin around Bossuet's neck. There was a blue light around them which seemed to be seeping into Bossuet but Joly's hand were shaking from the effort of using his Powers. Musichetta was literally hovering worriedly beside them, bobbing with agitation. They had changed since Grantaire saw them, Musichetta into G's white cat suit, Joly into an outfit which resembled a sort of Doctor/Action hero and Bossuet into a simple black top and trousers which seemed to be made out of a tough, leathery material. A sleek quiver of arrows and a high-tech looking bow was strung across his back. All of Les Amis were wearing masks of some kind but it was easy enough to see who was who once you knew. 

"What do you see? What's in there? Why can't we get in?" demanded Inferno, who was predictably standing closest to the door, with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who was still shirtless, standing beside him. Combeferre, now dressed in a strange bronze, vaguely steampunk outfit shot Enjolras an angry look.  
"I - I don't know. I can't see, there's something blocking it. It hurts, it hurts when I try to see," Bossuet said, his voice weak. Joly looked especially worried.  
"Enj- Inferno, I mean, he needs to get out of here. Whatever is in there is messing with his head and I can't help him, it's draining me," he said, the blue light around his hands flickering. Inferno nodded.

"Fine, you two should go then. Replenish your energy - after we fight whatever's in there we might need to be healed," he said sharply. His whole body was tense and everyone looked scared. Grantaire had seen pictures of the group in newspapers and online, always taken from a distance, and they had always looked heroic and in control. Now Grantaire saw them as they were; young and inexperienced. The screaming wasn't stopping and it was obvious they didn't know how to get in. The largest of Les Amis, Grantaire remembered his name was Bahorel, was throwing himself against the door but it wouldn't budge. An imprint of his body had appeared in the wood but the door itself stayed impossibly firm. 

"It's like there's something behind the door," Bahorel told Inferno breathlessly as Bossuet and Joly limped away, "Something really, really strong - stronger than pre-cast concrete. I've broken that with less effort."  
Inferno nodded, "Thanks, you can stop. We obviously can't get in through there. Thorn - the floor?"  
The smallest Amis who was leant against the wall shook their head. It took a moment for Grantaire to put a name to the face but eventually he placed them. Jehan's long auburn hair was pulled up into an elegant bun and he wore a dark purple shot which appeared to have real vines curling around his limbs.  
"Nothing. I've can't get inside the room at all, not with any plant I've tried to break the walls with. Like Titan says, it's like hitting concrete. But weirder - I can't feel anything inside there, not a pot plant, not a bit of mould, nada," Thorn/Jehan said, his voice low and guilty. Courfeyrac reached out and touched Jehan's arm comfortingly, a yellow flower blooming where his hand made contact. 

"I've got the same thing - I can't feel electricity flowing in and out of the room like I usually can," LiveWire/Marius said in a frustrated voice, "If I could, maybe I could blow the light or something but like J- Thorn said, nothing. It's all blocked out."  
"Bolt? Is there anything weird at all here apart from this room? Or any other way in?" Inferno/Enjolras turned to the blue figure who was standing anxiously beside Thorn. Grantaire recognised him as Feuilly as the man shook his head, looking as concerned as the rest.  
"No, it's all blocked off. Not even a window in case someone tries to break in. This door is the only way in," he explained. Courfeyrac groaned and put his head in his hands. The screaming was continuing at the same pitch and volume as before.  
"There must be another way to get in - the last person to open that door was Mademoiselle Hugo, the secretary. That was about an hour ago," Combeferre points out, "I think she must be the one screaming."  
"There has to be a way to get in!" Enjolras said angrily his hair looking like it was going to burst into flame, "Or a way to get what's in there out!" 

"There isn't," said a female voice without a clear source by the door. Grantaire sighed in annoyance as all Les Amis stared at the spot Eponine had spoken from. Her voice was about an octave lower than usual and she had put on a slight accent so there was no flicker of recognition in anyone's eyes but Grantaire had known her for long enough to recognise her voice, no matter how she tried to disguise it.  
"Who's there?" asked Courfeyrac, already on guard and ready to attack.  
"I'm- I'm no one," she replied, her tone cautious, "Just call me Ghost or something. I don't really care. But there's no way in - usually I can just walk through walls but I can't here, I don't know why. I've tried all the way around - I can get through the wall but then something, a sort of force field on the other side pushes me back. It doesn't hurt, it just happens." 

Inferno nodded, accepting her explanation, "Were you at the bank a couple of days ago?"  
"Yes, in the vault. But that's not the point," Eponine said in annoyance, "Look, I know someone who can maybe get in, kind of teleport. I just need to get them here."  
"No!" shouted Grantaire in alarm, assuming she meant Gavroche, "You can't bring him into it - it's too dangerous. He might be able to get to Russia and back but you are not sending him into that room. No way."  
"What? You mean Ga- I mean, no way. Hell no. He is not getting involved with this, ever. I meant you," Eponine said, her voice startled, "Can you get in?"  
Grantaire shook his head before realising they couldn't see him. Most of Les Amis heads were turned towards where he was standing, concealed in shadow. He felt strangely exposed, even though he knew they couldn't see him - judging by the expressions on their faces.  
"No, I need to be able to see the shadowy place where I'm going or have gone there before," he explained, "I can't get in there because I've never been in there and I can't see- wait, can you hear that?" 

It was completely silent as everyone stopped and listened.  
"No, I can't hear anything," Inferno said, a frown forming on his perfect marble brow.  
"Exactly - she's not screaming anymore," said Grantaire, a cold feeling creeping up his back. Everyone in the room who's visible stiffens and turns to the door. There was a moment of silence then a loud bang and a flash of light. The door flew off its hinges, hitting Bahorel/Titan who just pushed it away like it was a leaf. The group crept forward slowly, on guard.

The room beyond was mainly empty, no dangerous threat, no enemy ready to attack. Grantaire leant forward to get a better look. A pretty blonde woman who he assumed was Mademoiselle Hugo was taped to the swivel chair, her mouth gagged with tape and her eyes wide and panicked. The chair spun round slowly in a sick, macabre way. There was no sign of Rene Gaugirard. There was a moments hesitation then Inferno rushed forward, followed by the rest of Les Amis. Grantaire spotted an area of shadow behind the desk and willed himself to appear there. 

He closed his eyes when he arrived, momentarily dizzy like he was before - despite the fact he hadn't been moving so fast as before. He heard the rip of tape and then Mademoiselle Hugo's relieved and scared sobs.  
"Chronos, what happened here?" asked Inferno, his voice worried. Grantaire heard Jehan murmuring to Mademoiselle Hugo who's sobs sounded cracked and painful, probably a result of screaming for an unnaturally long time.  
"I - I don't know, my Psychometry isn't working here - I can't see anything that's happened in this room," said Combeferre/Chronos, his voice breaking in pain, "It's painful to even try - like Bossuet said. Whatever was here must have put up a mental barrier, a psychic shield as well." 

Grantaire opened his eyes finally, the dizziness gone and he stopped and stared. All Les Amis were facing inwards, away from the door looking towards him. Jehan and Courfeyrac were crouched beside Mademoiselle Hugo who is silent hysterics while Enjolras stood with Combeferre and Feuilly. Combeferre was holding his head in his hands and grimacing while Marius, Musichetta and Bahorel were all running their hands along the wall, looking for how whatever was in here had escaped. He couldn't see Eponine but he assumed she must be doing the same.

Everyone was distracted and none of them had back towards the door since the had entered apart from Grantaire. He swore quietly, too shocked to speak up as he stared in horror at the wall which the door was set in.  
"What is it?" asked Musichetta, the only one close enough to hear him.  
"The door," Grantaire said, his voice shaky. She frowned and turned toward their exit and froze. Her horrified gasp caused the others to turn and look at what Grantaire had seen. 

Rene Gaugirard was slumped in a corner, his throat cut and face pale. Several of his limbs looked broken and a pool of blood was slowly spreading around him. There were streaks of blood all over the wall around him, from where he must flailed as he bled to death and from where someone had callously dipped their hands into the blood and written a large, rust coloured message across the wall, running above the door.

Patron-Minette is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so once again I am so sorry this took so long to get out. I was writing stuff for the Les Amis Big Bang, so I sort of neglected my other stuff. I'm not going to promise anything time because as you may have noticed I'm not good at keeping promises about time. I do plan for the next chapter to be out soon and I'm already writing it.
> 
> I also went through and corrected several mistakes in previous chapters so hopefully they'll be easier to read. The story is also taking a darker turn than originally planned, as you may have noticed in this chapter so I'll change the archive warnings if necessary but I think it's a much better plot this way. 
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome; comments, opinions, criticism, praise to inflate my ego, etc. But seriously, thanks for the kudos and a comments you have lead and if you're still reading this you're awesome. Also, I am a pretty amateur writer so please feel free to point out mistakes or make suggestions. 
> 
> Thanks :)


	8. In Each Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “In each fire there is a spirit; Each one is wrapped in what is burning him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras: light, fire and heat control (Inferno)  
> Combeferre: Psychometry of people, places and objects. Able to slow time or speed it up around him (Chronos)  
> Courfeyrac: shape-shifting (Shifter)  
> Jehan Prouvaire: control of plants (Thorn)  
> Joly: regeneration/healing abilities and can project symptoms of diseases (Paeon)  
> Bossuet L'aigle: premonition but also good at archery, so he's kind of a pyschic-Hawkeye (Tell)  
> Feuilly: super-speed (Bolt)  
> Bahorel: super-strength and enduribility (Titan)  
> Musichetta: manipulating gravity (G)  
> Marius Pontmercy: controls electricity (LiveWire)  
> Eponine Thenardier: invisibility and intangibility (Ghost)  
> Grantaire: shadows/darkness and cold manipulation (Shadow)
> 
> Gavroche Thenardier: super-senses and teleportation   
> Azelma Thenadier: wind and weather control
> 
> (I know, I know. Some of these make me wince as well but I couldn't come up with better, sorry. Bossuet's is a reference to William Tell, a legendary archer {also a pun, he can Tell the future. Yeah I know, sorry} and Joly's name is the Physician of the Greek Gods and was just so appropriate for his Powers. It's because he's a huge nerd who definitely probably reads Homer.  
> When they're being Superheroes then I will use the above mentioned names)

"Patron-Minette is here," Inferno whispered, unable to take his eyes off the message. The constant shine of his hair had died down in shock.   
"What does it mean?" Chronos asked, headache forgotten.   
"Patron-Minette must be a group," suggested Titan, his tone hushed, "Supers - like us, but bad. Really bad."   
"Early dawn," murmured Grantaire and Inferno's head whipped round to stare towards the shadows.   
"I don't think that we should just be saying stu-" he began in a haughty tone.  
"No - that's what it means, Apollo," said Grantaire, annoyed at Inferno's immediate assumption that his contribution was useless, "It's old, street slang. Patron-Minette; the moments that the sun begins to rise."  
"He's right," Eponine's voice came from beside Inferno, making him jump. Grantaire felt a thrill of satisfaction watching Inferno startled.   
"Patron-Minette means the really early hours of the dawn. It's used to show the time that all the criminals and prostitutes disappear from the streets, the end of their work. It's really old slang," she continued to explain.  
"Oh - there's a Polish phrase like that; meaning that it's safe to unlock your doors again," Bolt said, understanding dawning on his face.   
"So the phrase is saying that the dawn is here?" asked Shifter doubtfully.   
"No, I think it's saying that the age of criminals is over," said Thorn.  
"But they are criminals!" exclamied G, "They killed someone!"  
"Poetic irony?" he suggested doubtfully. Mademoiselle Hugo gave another heavy sob.   
"Thorn - killing someone is not poetic or ironic. It's evil," said G.

"I think for now we should assume that Patron-Minette is another group of Supers and worry about what their name means later. Right now we have a situation to deal with," Inferno said authoritatively and the room immediatly hushed.    
"Careful, I can almost hear the capital 'S' of Situation there," said Grantaire sarcastically. Inferno cast a withering look in his general direction but chose to ignore the comment.   
"Thorn, Shifter - take Mademoiselle Hugo downstairs and get her something to deal with the shock. If she feels up to it, she can tell you what happened," Inferno ordered. Thorn and Shifter nodded and slowly helped the shaking woman to her feet. "Chronos," Inferno continued, "Can you go downstairs and tell Paeon and Tell what's happened."   
Combeferre nodded gratefully and hurried away, glad to have an excuse to leave the room which caused so much pain to psychics.  
"I'll check the ceiling for get-away routes," G suggested, turning away from the body hurriedly, and immediatly rose, bumping into the ceiling lamp."  
"Yes, thanks. Titan, Bolt; are you two okay doing the same? Be careful not to touch the body - don't contaminate any evidence," Inferno asked. The pair glanced over at Rene Gaugirard but nodded anyway and began scanning the walls, running their hands and knocking occasionally.   
"LiveWire," Inferno turned to the Super who was trying not to look at the body, "You're the best with technology, so can you go downstairs and check security camera feeds?" He gestured to the camera in the corner of the room which G was hovering near. LiveWire nodded, clearly relieved to leave the room with the gruesome body.

Finally, Inferno turned to the general direction of where Eponine and Grantaire where standing and squinted. He began to shine brighter, pushing back Grantaire's shadows. He hadn't realised they'd been leaking out of him and spreading around his corner of the room. The temperature in the room had dropped as well, he had unconciously lowered it.   
"You two, Ghost and.. uh, Shadow?" Inferno asked hesitantly.   
"Shadow works for me," Grantaire said, smirking and rolling his eyes. It was better than some of the other names at least.   
"Okay, Ghost and Shadow," repeated Inferno with more confidence, "Can you come with me for a minute?" Without waiting for an answer, Inferno turned on his heel and marched out, expecting Grantaire to follow. He did of course, and Grantaire knew deep down that he always would, but the arrogance of it which pissed him off.   

When Inferno was far enough away from the office so that they wouldn't be overheard he spun around and glared at the thin air in front of him.   
"Who are you?" he asked angrily. Grantaire was tempted not to answer so it just looked like the blond was talking to himself but he gave in and answered, sarcastically of course.   
"Who are you, Apollo? I thought secret identities were an integral part of being a Superhero," he said, folding his arms and willing the temperature to drop. Inferno frowned and brought it back up to a comfortable level, not that it mattered to Grantaire. Since he had developed his Powers temperature didn't affect him as much, unless something was extremely hot.   
"I don't mean like that," replied Inferno in exasperation, "I don't care who you are. What do you want? What do you have to do with Les Amis? You've appeared twice at an important crime scene, it's suspicious." Eponine gave an insulted laugh.   
"We're suspicious? We've helped you! Shadow saved your life!" she pointed out.   
"You told her that?" Inferno asked, his expression horrified.  
"Of course I did, Apollo," said Grantaire, enjoying the annoyance in Inferno's face. Anger suited him, like everything else. When Inferno got angry he literally began to shine, "It's okay - even Gods have their weaker moments."  
"Stop calling me Apollo!" Inferno exclaimed then took a deep breath, clentching and unclentching his fists.  
"Thank you for saving me," he finally relented, "I don't think you're bad, or you're going to hurt us but both of you are currently invisible to me so, yes, I am suspicious."  
"To be honest, that's fair enough," admitted Eponine and Grantaire made a slight noise of agreement.   
"So," Inferno continued, "I just want to know what the deal is here. What are you doing? Are you involved or is this just a one-off thing? As Supers you can join Les Amis de l'ABC."   
"We're just concerned citizens," Grantaire told him, "And I think we're involved now, whether we want to be or not."   
"Yeah," Eponine agreed quietly, "With what I just saw in that room, I don't think I can't be involved in this anymore."   
"So you'll join Les Amis?" asked Enjolras hopefully, "If you do, you are going to have to show yourselves so you can properly become part of the group."  
"Okay, we're going to have a limit there," Grantaire said quickly and Eponine made a noise of agreement.  
"You want to be involved but you won't tell us who you are? How is that going to work?"  
"I don't know, don't you have a bat-signal or something you could use whenever Patron-Minette are going to attack?" asked Grantaire sarcastically.  
"Look, we have a spare phone. A mobile. If we give you that number you could text us whenever Patron Minette are around and then we turn up if possible?" suggested Eponine.   
"We have a spare phone?" asked Grantaire confused.   
"Yeah, your old Nokia."   
"That is hardly a Superhero phone, it's a Nokia Brick."  
"Those things can survive anything; it's definitely a Superhero phone."

"Okay, okay - I don't care if it's a Superhero phone or not - is it really the best way to keep in touch?" Inferno snapped.  
"It's the only way we've got," replied Eponine, "The number is-"  
"Wait," said Grantaire, cutting her off, he turned to Inferno and directed the question at him, "Do you promise not to try and find out who we are? You could track the number probably but will you?"  
Inferno frowned and sighed, "I promise to respect your privacy and not track down your  real identies. As long as you do the same - do not try to find out who Les Amis are."   
Grantaire made an awkward face but promised, "We promise we won't attempt find out who you are when you aren't Supers." He was careful with its wording but Inferno seemed satisfied.   
"Good - we have an agreement. If you give me the number then you can go," his said, his tone suddenly business-like.  
"Hey, what? We want to know what happens here as much as you do?" Eponine told him defensively.   
"Fine - it might take a while though," Inferno said with a sigh. Eponine gave him the old number and he stalked off to see how Thorn and Shifter were doing.

"What a dick," Eponine commented, watching Inferno leave.   
"I don't know," mused Grantaire, "I kinda like him."   
"You'd like anyone with an ass like that," Eponine snorted, "He's still a dick - especially after all the stuff he said on Thursday." Grantaire froze up and the temperature dropped a couple of degrees.   
"That was just stupid stuff," Grantaire lied, "He's, you know, a lot. Powerful."   
"He's, you know, a lot?" Eponine said, the invisible smirk obvious in her voice, "You're so poetic when you're in love."   
"I'm not in love!" protested Grantaire, "Like you can talk; I'm suprised you haven't started doodling 'Mrs Eponine Pontmercy' all over the flat." An invisible force slapped the back of his head and laughed when he went 'Ow'. 

The slight laugh faded and the pair were left in silence, both too tired to keep pretending.   
"R - his face," Eponine muttered, all the humour gone from her voice.  
"I know. He looked... terrified," agreed Grantaire, trying I hide the quaver as he thought about the dead man just down the hallway, a look of horrible fear etched across his face forever. He tried not to think about what it meant for any of them. 

\-------

"Ah, Grantaire. There you are. Can you put these back where they belong?" asked Jeremy, Grantaire's boss as he gestured to a large pile of encyclopaedias. Grantaire nodded but gave an internal sigh. The encyclopaedia section was far away and it meant that Grantaire couldn't finish rearranging the art section into chronological order. He slotted a book on Monet back and climbed to his feet, careful not to use the shelf to prop himself up. After working in the library for several months he knew exactly what would happen if he did that; about once a week he would have to set up a shelf again after someone accidentally pulled it down.

Grantaire guessed he would have once found the encyclopaedias heavy but post-Mutation it wasn't particularly difficult. Jeremy nodded approvingly. "Floreal is somewhere around there most probably so if you need any help just get her along," he told Grantaire, referencing the other Library employee. Grantaire brightened up, he and Floreal were good friends and it would be a relief to see her. Sometimes the constant silence of the Library got to people if they spent too long in there. He wondered down the shelves which were all wooden and filled with dusty tomes, all of which looked like they were going to fall apart and none of looked appropriate for light reading.

Grantaire recognised most of the books he passed. In the ten months he had worked in the library he had dealt with most of them; various scholars taking them out and returning them, some idiot picking it up and moving it so Grantaire had to track it down or being damaged so Grantaire either had to fix it of replace it, depending on the age of the book. He had read of the more interesting looking ones, judging mainly on colour and design. Anything that looked over a hundred years was banned - boring and definitely not something to bring anywhere near Gavroche. There had been a rather horrible incident which had involved the twelve year old, a glass of sprite and a eighteenth century book about monasteries. Luckily the book had been saved from a sticky, soft drink death but it had been too close to risk a repeat. Some of the books in the library were more than his life's worth, let alone his job. 

 He turned down an aisle full of books written by people who's last names began with 'F' and spotted someone blond kneeling down by the 'Fe' area. The blond let out a frustrated groan and there was the sound of books being moved carelessly. Grantaire winced and bit back an exclamation of horror; working in the library had made him sensitive to how books were treated and that crinkling sound had been ominous. 

"Can I help you?" he asked in his professional, bored librarian tone.   
"Uh- yes," said the blond, their voice muffled, "Where are the books on feminism? I'm looking here - in the FE section but they must have been moved."   
Grantaire bit back a smile. One of the favourite part of his job was dealing with people who had no clue about the Dewey Decimal System.   
"Those are authors," Grantaire explained, hiding his amusement, "Anything on feminism will be downstairs in the Politics section."  
"Oh! That's why there's nothing here," the blond said in relief, rocking back on their heels.   
"If you're looking for something on feminism you'll be better off at the Biblothèque Marguerite Durand. They've got a huge collection there. It's in the 13th arrondissement, only a few minutes away," Grantaire continued. The blond nodded their thanks and finally turned to Grantaire who froze. 

Enjolras stared back at him, shocked, hair slightly damp and hiding the familiar glow.   
"Oh. You," he said rudely. Grantaire raised an eyebrow.   
"Yeah. Me," he replied in the same tone. Enjolras flushed slightly, out of anger or embarrassment? Grantaire wasn't sure.   
"You were at the Musain, last Thursday," Enjolras asked haughtily, although they both obviously knew the answer.   
"Don't you recognise me?" countered Grantaire, making an exaggerated hurt face, "I'm insulted."   
Enjolras gave a sigh and ignored the comment. "It has occured to me that I may owe you an apology," he began, sounding forced and official.   
"It's alright. Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta already did. They brought cake as well so I doubt you can trump that," Grantaire told him, readjusting the stack of encyclopaedias he was still holding. His arms were beginning to ache.   
"Oh," Enjolras said, a frown wrinkling his forehead, "Still, it was me that kicked you out of the Musain. I had no right to do that. It is a public space and I was out of line when I told you to leave."   
"And all of the other stuff?" Grantaire prompted, taking a guilty please out of watching Enjolras being all stuffy and official. It was obvious the other man was trying very hard to be polite and Grantaire was secretly hoping to break the facade.   
"What? The other stuff?" Enjolras said, looking slightly startled. Cracks began appearing in the politeness mask.  
"You know, the other stuff you said. It was slightly hurtful, you know," said Grantaire with a grin, "Or didn't the others walk you through why you should apologise for that?" The mask shattered and Enjolras was full out scowling at Grantaire now.   
"I don't need Combeferre to walk me through apologies," he hissed.  
"Oh, so it was Combeferre. I was wondering who gave you the talk," Grantaire said, enjoying the realisation of Enjolras' mistake dawn on the blond's face.   
"Look - I just wanted to apologise," he told Grantaire angrily, "I was trying to be polite-"  
"Don't bother; you're being about as forced as they comes and it's pretty obvious you don't mean it so you don't have to pretend."   
"No!" exclaimed Enjolras loudly, his voice ringing in the silent library. He lowered his voice, "I really shouldn't have said the things I said. It was out of order for me to assume those thing and to kick you out of the Musain. Some of the things you pointed out, though they could have been phrased better, were valid points - the things you said about how anti-homeless design has been happening for years in cities for example."  
"Oh, so I'm not a distainful, drunken cynic?"   
Enjolras paused for slightly too long before saying, "No - I was just upset and I took it out on you." 

The pause felt like a knife in the gut but Grantaire pushed it away.   
"No you were right - I am actually a distainful, drunken cynic," he said with a jokey smile, although he wasn't really joking.  
Enjolras shook his head. "No - really. I am sorry. You're welcome to come back to the Musain on Thursday. In fact, please do. Courfeyrac keeps giving me evil looks and Musichetta refuses to make me coffee because I was a 'pretentious dick'. Even Joly, who's never mean to anyone, called me a cranky buttface so I guess I really was horrible to you."   
"I'll think about it," said Grantaire, rolling his eyes at Enjolras' half-assed invite back. He already knew that he was going to be there. He pretended it was because of Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta, after all they had brought him rather delicious cake. Gavroche had eaten half of it which was one of the many, many problems of having a twelve-year old who could teleport and hold a grudge. Deep down, though, Grantaire knew he was going back for Enjolras, just to make sure he saw him again. He was screwed and he knew it. 

"Thank you," said Enjolras with a half-smile and for a moment Grantaire let himself believe that it was completely sincere. It almost was.   
"Where did you say the library with a collection on feminism was?" he asked, breaking the silence between them. Grantaire sighed inwardly. His possible feelings for Enjolras were a problem for another time, he decided. He didn't want to deal with feelings right now at all, especially if they were for someone who was powerful as Enjolras. He was like a hurricane; furious, powerful and possibly going to destroy your car. Grantaire realised Enjolras was looking expectantly at him and mentally shook himself. 

"The Biblothèque Marguerite Durand. In the 13th arrondissement. Leave here and turn left - there will be signs after that," Grantaire said, reverting back to his librarian voice and adjusting the many encyclopaedias he was holding. His arms had gone numb as he had been standing like one of the marble statues he had compared Enjolras to.  
"Yes, I know how to get there. Thank you," replied Enjolras, already back to his usual brusque attitude.   
"I'll see you on Thursday," murmured Grantaire as the blond turned to leave. He was rewarded with a rare but honest smile. As Enjolras swept away Grantaire tried unsuccessfully to stop his eyes wondering downwards, staring at the cover of the top encyclopaedia. 

"Wow, R. You got lucky with him," said Floreal with a smirk as she emerged from in between two bookshelves. Grantaire jumped; Floreal was so good at appearing from thin air that sometimes Grantaire wondered if she was a Mutant as well.   
"He's not my boyfriend," he told Floreal with a sad grin. She raised an eyebrow.  
"Yet," she muttered. Grantaire gave her a look and she laughed, "Fine, fine. But still, he's seriously attractive. Well done on getting that much sexual tension with someone that fine. Not that you're bad yourself." She winked at him as she took the top few encyclopaedias from him. Grantaire rolled her eyes as she started to walk off. 

"Hey," she called over her shoulder, "Now you've found your blonde hottie maybe you'll stop flirting with me all the time."    
Grantaire gave an indignant snort and followed Floreal who was weaving expertly through the book cases.  
"Never darling," he told her, "Anyway - you like it. You flirt back, honey."  
"I'll have you know, I have a fiancé," she replied snootily, waving her left hand at him. The diamond ring glinted in the yellow light of the library.   
"Yes, but he's a merchant banker - they have no souls!" Grantaire exclaimed, "You, my dear, could do so much better!"    
"What, like you - sweetheart?" Floreal asked, wriggling her eyebrows at him as she dropped the books onto the table next to the encyclopaedia section. Grantaire followed suit.   
"Exactly!" he said, grabbing her hands and spinning her round, "Come on, Floreal. Leave behind this Français of yours and elope with me!"   
She giggled and Grantaire tired unsuccessfully to hide his smile. He grabbed her hand and made a sweeping gesture with his other hand.   
"You and me, Floreal. We may be penniless our whole lives but we will be free! Imagine our adventures!" Floreal laughed happily and pretended to swoon.   
"Oh, R," she simpered, "Please save me from my future of financial stability!" Grantaire bowed low and kissed her hand which was still clasped with his. Then he stood up laughing.   
"Until you marry your banker or decide to run away with me we do actually need to pay bills," he said, "So we better actually put these books away." 

\--- 

When Enjolras finally returned to the house after his visit to the Biblothèque Marguerite Durand, arms full of radical feminist literature he saw Feuilly, hunched at his laptop and frowning.  
"What's wrong?" Enjolras asked, carefully dropping the books onto the coffee table. Apart from Feuilly the room was unusually empty.   
"Nothing, nothing," Feuilly said then fell silent in a way that suggested he was going to continue in a minute. Enjolras was quite close with Feuilly, after Feuilly had been the Mutant that triggered his Change and the one who had first spotted his Powers and Enjolras knew Feuilly's habits. He sat in the red armchair he had claimed as his and opened the first of the many books. After a couple of minutes had passed, Feuilly began to speak. 

"It's Mademoiselle Hugo," he spoke cautiously, the ideas almost audibly sorting themselves out in his head, "Her statement hasn't been released yet - I've had to hack into the Police database to get this - but she doesn't seem to remember anything."  
"Jehan and Courfeyrac mentioned that," ventured Enjolras.  
"But we all assumed it was just shock," completed Feuilly, closing his laptop, "She still doesn't seem to be remembering though - three days on. Just the same as she told Courf and Jehan: a bunch of people bursting into the room and then we were letting her out."  
"Maybe memory loss is a common thing. We can ask Joly or Combeferre, they'll know," Enjolras suggested. Feuilly sighed and nodded.   
"You're probably right. It's just that nothing adds. No fingerprints, no entrance, no exit, nothing. Apart from the dead body and Mademoiselle Hugo it would be like no one was ever there."  
"But someone must have been there! Or something,"  Enjolras exclaimed. Feuilly shrugged tiredly.   
"Yes but until they strike again there's no way to track them down. These people are professional criminals, I know the sort, and they're careful. We're going to have to be careful, really careful." Enjolras hummed in agreement as Feuilly rose. 

"Anyway, I'm going to get something to eat. Jehan's in the kitchen, so I wouldn't go there if I were you. He's determined that you're properly punished for what you said to Marius' friend so if you eat anything in front of him it will probably end up vaguely poisonous. Not that you don't deserve it." His tone was gentle despite his cruel ways and Enjolras gave a bitter smile. His friends were definitely not letting go of what had happened on Thursday.   
"I'll trust you on that." Feuilly rolled his eyes and started to go but Enjolras called him back, "Tell Jehan, since I doubt he'll listen to me, that I have seen Grantaire - at the library. He's coming back on Thursday."  
"Did you apologise properly?" Feuilly asked. Enjolras paused and Feuilly drew in a warning breath and tilted his head.  
"I did! I did!" protested Enjolras, slightly scared of Feuilly's scathing look. He wasn't scared of much but Feuilly was terrifying. The guy could definitely kill every one of Les Amis with his eyes closed if he chose to, and Enjolras knew that.  
"Fine. I'll believe you," said Feuilly in a voice that said he definitely didn't, "After all, I can ask him on Thursday - can't I?"   
Enjolras gave a jerky, robotic nod and Feuilly smirked and swept out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, new addition: quotes and chapter titles from Dante's Inferno (or just from him in general). But yeah, they might not always be the most appropriate but they are poetic. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are hugely appreciated and you're all awesome.


	9. Perilous Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And as he, who with laboring breath has escaped from the deep to the shore, turns to the perilous waters and gazes.” - Dante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras: light, fire and heat control (Inferno)  
> Combeferre: Psychometry of people, places and objects. Able to slow time or speed it up around him (Chronos)  
> Courfeyrac: shape-shifting (Shifter)  
> Jehan Prouvaire: control of plants (Thorn)  
> Joly: regeneration/healing abilities and can project symptoms of diseases (Paeon)  
> Bossuet L'aigle: premonition but also good at archery, so he's kind of a pyschic-Hawkeye (Tell)  
> Feuilly: super-speed (Bolt)  
> Bahorel: super-strength and enduribility (Titan)  
> Musichetta: manipulating gravity (G)  
> Marius Pontmercy: controls electricity (LiveWire)  
> Eponine Thenardier: invisibility and intangibility (Ghost)  
> Grantaire: shadows/darkness and cold manipulation (Shadow)
> 
> Gavroche Thenardier: super-senses and teleportation   
> Azelma Thenadier: wind and weather control  
> (I know, I know. Some of these make me wince as well but I couldn't come up with better, sorry. Bossuet's is a reference to William Tell, a legendary archer {also a pun, he can Tell the future. Yeah I know} and Joly's name is the Physician of the Greek Gods and was just so appropriate for his Powers. It's because he's a huge nerd who definitely probably reads Homer.
> 
> When they're being Superheroes then I will use the above mentioned names)

Grantaire willed another of the thug's shadows to trip the person it was attached to with a sigh. Giving Inferno their number had definitely been a mistake. Five days on and they had already been called out twice on righteous missions, neither of which had been a thing to do with Patron Minette. One of the missions, something about a bunch of robbers looting a TV store, had been in the middle of the night and Grantaire had had work the next morning at seven. Luckily the robbers had dropped the TVs and ran as soon as they saw the Superheroes meaning that Grantaire got enough sleep. Even the TVs had been saved due to G's quick use of her powers. 

Tonight's lot were putting up a bit more of a fight; a bunch of rich, drunk kids who had gotten their hands on some guns. The kids had decided that having a gun meant you got what you wanted, when you wanted it and had attacked and vandalised a liquor store. Or that's what they were planning to do, according to Tell. Of course, when they got there they had found Les Amis de l'abc waiting for them, plus two invisible but pissed off associates. They had let the kids put up a bit of fight; waving the guns around, shooting the air and the store window but as soon as one of the kids fired at Chronos they were done for. 

It had been quite impressive really. Chronos had just stood there as the bullet raced towards him, smiling slightly. The bullet had stopped just in front of him and he had plucked it out of the air. Chronos' tone was quiet but firm, like he was reprimanding a small child as he turned to the boy who had shot him and said, "That wasn't exactly clever, was it Andrew?"

The boy and his friends had freaked out, shooting at random but bullets weren't exactly a match for Les Amis. Inferno had burst into flame and the approaching bullets had melted, falling to the ground. Shifter had disappeared, probably becoming an ant or something difficult to aim at. With a flick of her hand, G had sent bullets ricocheting away from her, Tell, Paeon, Thorn and LiveWire. Titan had just stood there, bullets hitting but not affecting him while Bolt just moved out of the way of bullets he saw coming a mile off. As for Grantaire and Eponine - bullets could hurt something incorporeal. 

Les Amis had then gone full out and within ten minutes all of the kids were gunless and on their way to the police station under the escort of Thorn, Bolt and Titan. Paeon had gone as well, to tend to a few of the attackers who had been slightly injured in the fight. The others had gathered round the pile of guns they had collected and begun disarming them. Les Amis had a 'destroy all guns rule' and once the ammunition had been removed they were all melted down by handing them to Inferno.

Eponine and Grantaire approached the group slowly.   
"I hate the feeling of bullets passing through me," Eponine said conversationally. Grantaire nodded in agreement, "It feels so weird. Huh, imagine saying that a few weeks ago." Eponine giggled and nodded in agreement.  
"In all seriousness though - we have to tell Inferno to stop phoning us for any mission that turns up," Eponine told him after a moment of silence, "I have work tomorrow and it's not like they actually need us for stuff like this."  
"No. I'll talk to him about it."  
"Yeah right! Like that has ever gone well," said Eponine with a derisive snort, "No, I'll talk to him. I might not end up trying to freeze him to death."   
"That was one time," Grantaire whined, "Anyway - it didn't effect him."  
"It sure as hell effected everyone else in the room; including me. I'm going to be the one talking to him. We're less likely to kill each other." Grantaire made a rude noise but had to admit she was right. Though, in his defense, the freezing thing hadn't been that aggressive. More like an experiment that got slightly aggressive and out of hand. It wasn't his fault that his Powers of cold had a longer reach that Inferno's. 

He made himself just corporeal enough to be seen; a shadowy figure, standing just on the edge of Les Amis. Shifter wandered over, grinning.   
"You were awesome!" he exclaimed, "That whole thing with the shadows turning and grabbing the guns - that was amazing! You should have seen their faces!"   
Grantaire gave a proud smile, safe in the knowledge that Shifter couldn't see him.   
"I did. You were pretty good yourself - armadillo was a good choice," he said, his voice slightly sarcastic. Shifter made a wounded noise.   
"Armadillos are awesome. Awesomer than you at any rate. And, most importantly, bullet proof," he told Grantaire haughtily, "No one expects an armadillo to attack them."  
"But you're a shapeshifter," points out Grantaire, "Why can't you just become a bullet-proof dragon? You could be a dragon but you choose an Armadillo?"   
"The larger the thing, the more energy it takes to transform into it. I could turn into the Eiffel Tower if I wanted but it would knock me out for a week," Shifter explained, "Anyway, after the first 200 times dragons become a bit boring- uh oh, he looks angry. What did you do this time?" 

Inferno was storming towards Shifter and the shadow-figure that was Grantaire with steam, quite literally, coming out of his ears. There was a slight shimmer in the night beside him which indicated Eponine. Chronos seemed to have spotted Inferno's fury and was hurrying over as well, though less angry - more anxious. Possibly something to do with the hypothermia Grantaire had accidentally given Tell last time he and Inferno had argued.   
"Why is it always me?" Grantaire said with a resigned sigh.   
"I think I'm going to go before I get frostbite or heatstroke," muttered Shifter as he edged away, "Chronos is braver than me."  
"Traitor," Grantaire shot after.

"How dare you?" Inferno asked furiously as he approached. Shifter shot shadow-Grantaire a sympathetic look and half-ran to the safety of G who was still in the process of destroying the guns.   
"How dare I what, Apollo?" Grantaire asked languidly, making it clear he knew exactly what Inferno was angry about. He wasn't completely sure; unless Eponine had messed up the explaination completely, Inferno wouldn't be that angry. Should he?  
"How dare you insinute that your comfort is more important than the safety of the citizens of Paris?" Inferno hissed, his eyes ablaze behind the ash-grey mask. Eponine had messed it up completely then - Inferno must be pretty angry if he don't even protest Grantaire calling him Apollo. 

"Okay, first of all I did not insinuate that. Ghost did," pointed out Grantaire, defensively.   
"Ghost told me that you didn't want to be called out in the middle of the night anymore because you needed to sleep." The pointed way that Inferno spat out 'you' told Grantaire that Inferno had placed the blame entirely on him. He sighed inwardly.   
"If you are implying that your right to get a good night's sleep is a bigger priority than the safety of people then you are a completely awful person," Inferno snarled, "It is your duty as a Mutant to help people with-"   
"I have work tomorrow, Apollo," Grantaire snapped, his patience coming to an end.   
"What?" Inferno was obviously confused.   
"I have to work. I have to pay the rent," Grantaire explained though gritted teeth.   
"But you're a Superhero?" asked Inferno, frowning.   
"Maybe at night but by day? I'm a normal person. The type you save," Grantaire stumbled over his words, realising the truth of his words, "I have a job, a flat, a life. I don't what fantasy comic book world you live in but the fact I'm a mutant doesn't mean I can drop everything and dedicate my life to saving people. I can't afford to. Duty can go to hell; my friends, their safety, my life comes first. So yeah, maybe that's selfish but you've got a pretty good grip on stuff like this - you don't really need our help. So exuse the fact the 'Po- Ghost and I want to get some sleep. We both have to go to work tomorrow, we both need to earn money and we both don't need to be falling asleep while we're working."

Inferno stood, shocked for a moment by Grantaire's outburst. The temperature which had been rising steadily throughout his anger had dropped suddenly. There was an invisible round of applause from Eponine. Grantaire hadn't realised she was there. Chronos had also been there for most of it and he adjusted his goggles awkwardly.   
"He has a point, Inferno," he murmured, "We alway send out everyone on jobs like this when honestly, about three could handle this quite easily."  
"We're faster if we work as a group," Inferno pointed out, his attention distracted from Grantaire momentarily.  
"There's more chance of someone getting hurt. Honestly, for things like this we don't need Ghost and Shadow. For us, being a Superhero is a full time job but we need to remember that it isn't for everyone."   
"Fine. I'll only call if it's to do with Patron-Minette from now on," snapped Inferno, "We can discuss changing round groups later." He glared at the small group in front of him although they were mainly invisible to him. Then he stormed away, leaving a trail of sparks in his wake. 

\------ 

There were cheers as Grantaire and Eponine entered the Musain for the second time in their lives.

Joly and Bossuet immediately rushed over, grinning.   
"Hey! You came!" Joly exclaimed, "Did you like the cake?"   
"It was great, thanks," Eponine replied, slightly nervous at the attention from everyone in the room. She glanced towards Marius who was smiling towards her and immediatly she relaxed. Grantaire was less assured.

He glanced around quickly, taking in the room and it's occupants. Musichetta leant on the counter, by the till. Combeferre stood with her waving the book he was holding angrily as he talked. Jehan stood with them, making the occasional comment. Bahorel and Feuilly sat, sprawled on the sofas which were pushed up against the wall with Marius and Courfeyrac engaged in conversation on the same table. Enjolras on a table, alone with a book although the two chairs opposite him had seated Joly and Bossuet. 

Joly and Bossuet herded Eponine and Grantaire over to their table. Enjolras raised his head and nodded stiffly at the pair before returning to 'Everyday Sexism'.   
"Biblothèque Marguerite Durand?" asked Grantaire, nodding towards the book. Enjolras looked up quickly and gave a quick smile.   
"Yes - thank you for your advice. It was very a useful collection."  
"No problem. It is my job after all," said Grantaire with a shrug, his insides glowing slightly with the praise. He tried and failed to hide the smile which crept onto his face. It wasn't like Enjolras noticed anyway - already turning back to his book. 

"Enjolras mentioned that you work at the library?" Bossuet asked curiously.   
"Yeah I do Monday to Friday - a bunch of different hours," Grantaire said.  
"It's not his real job though, R's an artist actually," butted in Eponine. Grantaire shot her a horrified look but she smiled sweetly as the others attention was focused solely on him.   
"An artist?" repeated Jehan who had just wandered over with Combeferre, "That's amazing. What medium?"   
"Painting and drawing mostly," replied Grantaire, relieved that the group were asking sensible questions. No one had asked him to draw them yet which was a good sign, "I've done some textiles as well. I mainly work in 2D."   
Jehan nodded and leant forward, obviously interested. Combeferre has sat behind Enjolras and elbowed him gently, urging him to join the conversation. 

"He's going to tell you now that he's not all that good but don't let him fool you," Eponine told Jehan and the others, "R is really good. He plays guitar as well - he's got an open gig next Saturday at the Corinth." Grantaire decided that he was going to kill Eponine later. They barely knew the group, well - the group barely knew them, yet here she was telling them everything about him.   
"Hey! I know the Corinth" said Bahorel who had also migrated, drawn by curiosity, "I used to go there loads before I met these losers and started hanging out here."  
"You should come along," said Eponine with an evil in Grantaire's direction. He groaned inwardly as several of them nodded and seemed pleased with the idea.   
 It was strange how honestly curious the group were, acting like they really did care about the answers. Grantaire had been suprised at how nice Les Amis de l'abc had always been to the two mysterious Supers in their midst but this seemed to be a common theme. 

"You'll have to excuse them," said Musichetta, taking her Musain apron off as she joined them, "We don't get new people here very often. We scare them away mostly, well - mainly Enjolras, so it's exciting to have someone who will come back again."   
Enjolras made a wounded noise and gave Musichetta a hurt look from behind his book.   
"Rude," he muttered and Musichetta clucked.   
"Well, it is true. You're terrifying, sweetie," she said shrugging then turned to Grantaire, "So, an artist and a musician, where did you learn to do all that?"  
Grantaire gave a short laugh, "I was always terrible at maths and stuff like that so I used to bunk off most of those lessons and hang around the art block or go find an empty music room and mess around with my guitar. I spent most of my school life hiding from teachers and bullies so those ended up being my way of amusing myself."

Most of the group chuckled or nodded in sympathy. Enjolras looked up again from his book and cocked his head at Grantaire.  
"That wasn't very sensible, was it?" he asked. Grantaire ignored the obvious condescending tone and asked cooly, "What do you mean?"   
He had focused in on Enjolras but he saw Musichetta give both of them a warning look, which was ignored, and Eponine sigh and resign herself to embarrassment. She leant back by Bahorel and rolled her eyes.   
"Well, if you were bad at maths and other lessons like that you should have gone to them," Enjolras pointed out, "Then you would have improved."  
Grantaire snorted, "You should have seen my school, Enjolras. It wasn't the type where you learn anything. If you were bad at something the teachers ignored you and didn't even bother giving you work anymore. I got more out of bunking off than I would have got out of any maths or science lesson."  
Enjolras' face was confused, "But it's school - it's the teachers job to help you."  
"You're more naïve than I thought," said Grantaire, purposefully baiting the blond man, "Face it Enjolras, the system doesn't benefit kids who aren't clever. They're considered stupid and they sink to the bottom. Then the kids that are clever rise to the top and why would they change anything? They found it easy after all so there's no point in changing it. It's an endless cycle."  
"I'm not naïve," snapped Enjolras, his voice beginning to rise, "You're just pessimistic. There's no such thing as 'stupid' or 'clever', just a variety of intelligences and-"  
"And the school system couldn't care less about all the others. Whether these kids are actually stupid or just smart in different ways doesn't count for shit. The government wants a bunch of smart but unimaginative drones - not a variety of intelligences all represented in a little utopian school system," Grantaire cut him off.  
"Sorry to destroy your little fantasy but this isn't 1984 we're living in," Enjolras had put his book down now and was entirely focused on Grantaire, "It's far from perfect but things such as a variety of intelligences do actually matter in the real world. Huge sectors of the job industry such as design, customer service or music all need different types of intelligence."  
"No, not 1984. More like Brave New World. Everyone's so distracted by the good stuff in their lives they forget about the bad stuff in others. The majority of people float along in our little bubbles, going to university - getting degrees - getting a good job and working their way up while the rest of us can go to hell."  
"Oh, so that's where you are?"  
"Yep, the lift smells like human pee, according to Joly, and it sounds like the our new neighbours are moving furniture in the middle of the night," Grantaire said, "Someone got stabbed to death in the building opposite while 'Ponine's little brother and sister wander around the area freely."  
Enjolras brushed off his words and got to his feet, tilting his head.   
"Uh-oh, speech mode activated," Bossuet muttered to Joly who tried to hid his laugh. It wasn't like Enjolras noticed.

"You accuse us of floating along in little bubbles, too distracted by the good things in our life. You seem to have forgotten that you've come to the meeting of an activist group - people who are dedicated to improving the bad stuff, to changing the world, to making things better for everyone," he announced. By now everyone in the Musain was staring at him and most of Les Amis had wandere over to find out what was going on. Grantaire raised an eyebrow and climbed to his feet as well. His pose was a lot more laid back than that of Enjolras, his hands in the pockets of his least paint splattered pair of jeans and his green t-shirt too large. Enjolras was still wearing his signature red, felt coat which  hung open to show a white t-shirt beneath. Grantaire's inner artist couldn't help but notice how much the pair contrasted an he secretly wished someone would snap a picture. He shook away the idea quickly and looked back at Enjolras who was staring at him proudly. He was quite terrifying, Grantaire decided but Grantaire had spent most of his life around terrifying people of one sort or another and knew not to give in. Not that Enjolras wasn't like anyone he had ever met, he was completely different,

"You might be trying to change stuff but the majority of the population aren't," Grantaire said, "There are what - ten of you? How much difference can ten of you make? You've got the rest of the world against you, and from experience the rest of the world hates people who don't fit in."  
Enjolras flushed, "At least we're trying, unlike you who seems resigned to doing nothing and living in a corrupt system. You're worse than those who pretend everything's okay because you know that the system is wrong yet you can't be bothered to change it. You just sit around making cynical comments at those who are."   
Grantaire laughed, "Yeah, I know too much, that's the problem. To me, you're naïve and don't understand the way the world works. Don't worry, you'll end up like me one day. As Voltaire said - 'Inside every cynic there is a disappointed idealist'. Just wait and see." 

Enjolras looked like he was going to explode; verbally or literally - Grantaire was curious to see but Eponine interrupted first.   
"Boys, boys," she said with a sigh, "Play nice. Grantaire - please don't get us kicked out today. I'm hungry and the food here looks good." Musichetta beamed at her as Enjolras and Grantaire reluctantly sat down.  
"Thank god for another girl in the group," she said with a laugh, "All the testosterone in here gets too much sometimes."   
"Oh god tell me about it," groaned Eponine, "I have to be with this loser pretty much 24/7 since we live together and it's just so male all the time." She gestured at Grantaire.  
"So are you two together?" asked Bahorel, quickly butting in, "Feuilly and I were wondering."   
"What? No!" exclaimed Eponine, looking horrified. Bahorel groaned and pulled out his wallet. He handed a few bills to Feuilly who smiled and pocketed them.   
"Can't you just pretend?" pleaded Bahorel. Grantaire shook his head trying not to laugh.   
"Sorry - I'm gay. Very gay," he said and both Feuilly and Bahorel groaned. Feuilly handed the money he had got from Bahorel to Courfeyrac who was looking very pleased and Bahorel once again gave someone money.

Enjolras was looking at the three gamblers in horror.  
"You were taking bets on their sexuality and relationships?" he asked, sounding shocked. Courfeyrac gave a guilty shrug and the other two looked away quickly.   
"That is just so unpolitically correct, you three should know be-" he began but Grantaire cut him off.   
"It's fine, Enjolras," he said, "I don't need you to defend my honour, not that I have much left."   
"Not that you have any left," muttered Eponine darkly, "I know all too well."   
"But someone's sexuality is not something you should be placing bets on," Enjolras said imperiously. Grantaire rolled his eyes.  
"Who stuck that stick up your ass?" he asked sarcastically. Eponine slapped the back of his head and then glanced, wide eyed at Marius. Enjolras glowered at Grantaire but Combeferre shot him a warning glance before he said anything, preventing the third argument between the pair in three meetings.

\-----

Eponine and Grantaire left the Musain quite late and slightly drunk. Well, Grantaire was actually quite drunk but Eponine was mainly sober. Musichetta had opened up the back room after closing the cafe area and made drinks on the house. Grantaire wasn't sure what sort of hipster, Parisian cafe had a wide selection of alcohol but he like it. He had finally met his match when it came to drinking; Bahorel and Feuilly could almost drink him under the table. Almost, but not quite. Eponine had used being 'drunk' as an excuse to flirt with Marius while he had become completely smashed after a couple of beers. At some point Grantaire noticed that Enjolras had disappeared and he tried to ignore the disappointed feeling that swelled up inside him. Instead he had accepted Jehan who was a very cuddly drunk. The small poet had hung onto him and placed flowers in his hair, promising to turn up to his concert and write a poem about it. Grantaire wasn't sure where exactly the flowers had come from but he decided not to question it.

The evening had turned out better than Grantaire had expected - there was something about seeing a group of people drunk while you were drunk which was strangely companionable. Eponine and Grantaire were walking home through the dark Parisian streets, giggling at something or other which wouldn't look as funny in the light of day. They were almost home when they saw the man. 

He was tall and wearing along dark coat which looked kind of expensive. He was stood in the middle of the street, staring up towards their apartment building with an unreadable expression. He was out of place in the run down squalor of the area. Grantaire and Eponine kept walking, used to strangers wandering about at all hours of the night. If he tried anything, they knew how to defend themselves. As they passed the man he stepped towards them and called out quietly. 

"Do you live here?"   
Grantaire slowed slightly, on guard. "Yeah. What's it to you? You need directions?"   
The man gave a snort of laughter any stepped closed, pulling something out of his pocket. The lone street lamp illuminted his face and short, pepper-coloured hair. He was quite old but looked firm and he didn't look like someone Grantaire wanted to get in a fight with, especially as drunk as he was.  
"Inspector Javert," said the man quickly showing the pair his badge. He flicked it closed and put it back in his pocket before Grantaire or Eponine could properly read it.   
"I need to ask you a couple of questions," the Insepctor said firmly. Grantaire felt a twinge of annoyance at his demanding tone but he had learnt from experience that arguing with police ended badly, especially when drunk. 

"Fine," sighed Eponine, casting a wistful look towards the warmth of their apartment building. She didn't have her coat with her so Grantaire guessed she must be freezing, "The stabbing happened in the building opposite and we know very little about it. We were already asked about it."   
"It's not to do with that," Javert said brusquely, "No. I just wanted to know if there was anything strange happening in your building?"   
"No," replied Grantaire confused, "I mean - someone peed in our lift about a week ago and it hasn't been cleaned but that's pretty standard."   
Eponine elbowed him and looked back at the Inspector, "What sort of strange? You're going to have to be more specific - we get quite a lot of weirdos."  
"We've got about 12 types of looney round here," Grantaire drunkenly told the Inspector who raised an eyebrow and looked at him with distaste.  
"I mean, maybe Mutant strange," he told the pair who instantly sobered up, "Have you seen any Mutants round here?"  
"No," said Eponine quickly, "Most people round here don't like anyone who's different so I doubt any Mutants would be welcome."  
"Yeah, sorry we can't help you," Grantaire said and shivered dramatically, "It's freezing out here."   
Javert didn't take the hint. "Are you sure?" he asked, "Seen anyone acting strange, stranger than usual? Maybe a man and a young woman?"   
Eponine grabbed Grantaire's wrist and squeezed as she shook her head. Javert sighed and turned away.   
"Thank you for your help," he told them coldly before walking down the street and disappearing into an alley. His coat billowed behind him, making him look like a bat.

The pair watched him for a minute until he was completely out of sight and than finally Eponine unclasped Grantaire's wrist.   
"Do you think he was after us?" she said quietly. Her voice was tense and all the laughter of that evening had left them.  
"No, he can't be. We haven't done anything," Grantaire said quickly, "You can't arrest people for being Mutants."  
"I don't know, I've heard of Mutant registration," Eponine said quietly, "Maybe we should ask one of Les Amis - they're bound to know."   
"Oh God, please don't get Enjolras started," Grantaire said, "Anyway - he's not interested in us. He didn't even look at us."  
 "A man and a young woman," Eponine murmured, lost in thought.   
"Well there are about twenty flats that match that description," Grantaire pulled on her arm and guided her towards the flats, "We aren't the only ones."   
"I still think we should ask about Mutant registration," Eponine muttered but began walking with him. Grantaire made a slight noise of agreement and glanced behind him, at where the Inspector had been. He caught a glimpse of white out of the corner of his eye and glanced up but there was nothing there. He dismissed it as a plastic bag and hurried back home.

When Eponine and Grantaire reached their flat they heard a phone ringing. He rushed to the kitchen drawer where they kept the Nokia which Les Amis had the number for. Swearing, he answered as Eponine hovered at his shoulder -trying to listen.  
"The shadow speaking here," he said languidly, "How can I help?"  
"It's Inferno," the voice on other end said tightly. It was too obviously Enjolras.  
"We had this conversation last night," Grantaire said with a sigh as he walked away from the kitchen drawers, "No 'missions' unless they're to do-" Infeno cut him off.  
"It's to do with Patron-Minette. You need to come as soon as possible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm, back to school tomorrow so I don't know what that will do for my writing time but I'll try to get a chapter out regularly.   
> Also I'm looking for a beta - just someone to quickly read through and correct any small mistakes I make cause there are actually quite a lot. If you're interested then just tell me and we can sort it out.   
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Fall Into Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The day that man allows true love to appear, those things which are well made will fall into confusion and will overturn everything we believe to be right and true.” - Dante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:
> 
> Enjolras: light, fire and heat control (Inferno)  
> Combeferre: Psychometry of people, places and objects. Able to slow time or speed it up around him (Chronos)  
> Courfeyrac: shape-shifting (Shifter)  
> Jehan Prouvaire: control of plants (Thorn)  
> Joly: regeneration/healing abilities and can project symptoms of diseases (Paeon)  
> Bossuet L'aigle: premonition but also good at archery, so he's kind of a pyschic-Hawkeye (Tell)  
> Feuilly: super-speed (Bolt)  
> Bahorel: super-strength and enduribility (Titan)  
> Musichetta: manipulating gravity (G)  
> Marius Pontmercy: controls electricity (LiveWire)  
> Eponine Thenardier: invisibility and intangibility (Ghost)  
> Grantaire: shadows/darkness and cold manipulation (Shadow)
> 
> Gavroche Thenardier: super-senses and teleportation   
> Azelma Thenadier: wind and weather control  
> (I know, I know. Some of these make me wince as well but I couldn't come up with better, sorry. Bossuet's is a reference to William Tell, a legendary archer {also a pun, he can Tell the future. Yeah I know} and Joly's name is the Physician of the Greek Gods and was just so appropriate for his Powers. It's because he's a huge nerd who definitely probably reads Homer.
> 
> When they're being Superheroes then I will use the above mentioned names)

"We are the Angels and France shall be Sennacherib," Grantaire read from the wall, "What does it mean? What's Sennacherib?" 

He stood with several of Les Amis, staring at the message written in blood on the wall. The scene was eerily similar to what the had found in the police station several days earlier although this time the crime had happened at a prestigious university. The latest victim was a Professor of Philosophy, propped in the corner of his office. He had been killed the same way. There had been no witness this time but Grantaire doubted that it would make much difference. According to Les Amis Mademoiselle Hugo had still not remembered anything, even under hypnosis.

Suprisingly it was Thorn, not Enjolras who answered. He was much more serious and sober than when Grantaire had last seen him, a few hours before. Grantaire couldn't help but wonder if Paeon's healing Powers also included sobering people up.  
"Sennacherib was an Assyrian King. It's a reference to a Byron poem, the 'Angels' bit refers to the Angels of Death," Thorn explained. Eponine sucked in a breath.  
"That's pretty threatening," she commented. Thorn gave a bitter smile.   
"The poem is called the Destruction of Sennacherib. It's about a biblical massacre of the Assyrian troops. One account said that 185,000 people died," Thorn said darkly.   
"That's not good. Though I have to say the whole execution is kind of tacky," Grantaire murmured, "Oops, sorry. Bad choice of words."  
"Are you sure it was Patron Minette?" asked Eponine, choosing to ignore Grantaire's rather tasteless joke.   
Inferno bristled, "Yes. If you had been here earlier then you would know, wouldn't you?"   
"Well I'm sorry Apollo but the public transport isn't great at one a.m," replied Grantaire equally as irritable.   
"Don't call me Apollo!" snapped Inferno.   
"Can we stop arguing and actually return to the matter at hand?" asked Chronos quickly. The pair backed down reluctantly, Inferno shooting an evil glare at the shadowy figure of Grantaire. It was scarily similar to what had happened at the Musain only hours before. 

"Yes, it definitely was Patron Minette. We were stuck outside again and then the door flew open and we saw this," Chronos told the pair, "But now we've seen this we have a better idea of what Patron Minette's motive is."   
"What is it? They've killed someone in the police and a philosophy professor. Wh are those two things at all related?" Eponine asked.   
"They both hated Mutants," Bolt told the pair, "I was having a look at statements about Gaugirard's death. Apparently a few days before he was killed he was telling members of the police force to be extra-harsh on Mutants."   
Grantaire's mind immediately flashed to Inspector Javert, stopping him and Eponine outside their apartment.   
"And this one?" Eponine asked, her voice tense.   
"Big advocator of the Mutant Registration Policy," Bolt said coldly.   
"Bastard," Inferno muttered angrily. For once Grantaire agreed with him.  
"Historically that has never ended well," he commented and a ripple of agreement ran round the group. 

"So technically they're terrorists?" asked Eponine. Inferno nodded sharply.   
"Mutant Right Terrorists. You can understand why they're reacting like this," Grantaire commented. Inferno's head whipped towards him.   
"How can you say something like that? They murdered two people!" he hissed with rage.   
"Calm down, Apollo. I'm not condoning their actions. I'm just saying that their motive is understandable. Mutants are treated like shit." Inferno made a disgusted sound which felt like a punch to the gut to Grantaire. 

"We should start looking for any clues or evidence but we can't stay for very long. The police will be here soon, I've just called them," Shifter said, appearing beside Inferno. Inferno gave a sharp nod and started giving out orders. One time Grantaire had made a joke about Inferno being the leader of Les Amis but the glare he had received had almost literally burnt through him. Still, it was obvious that Inferno was generally in charge of the group and that the others seemed content to do what he said. 

"Shadow, if you go with Paeon and Tell to have a look in the corridor outside that would be best," Inferno all but commanded. Grantaire rolled his eyes but willed himself to appear in the patch of shadow nearest the pair who he had been talking to earlier that evening, only with the names Joly and Bossuet that time. The best thing about working with Powers at night was that it was always shadowy and dark in a room, giving Grantaire plenty of space and material to work with. He made himself just about visible enough so the pair knew he was there and they began walking out of the Professor's office.

He hadn't had much of a chance to talk with the Superhero persona of Joly and Bossuet before as he'd usually been grouped with Inferno himself or Titan and Bolt.  
"So why are you called Paeon?" he asked conversationally.  
Joly, or Paeon shrugged, "It's a Greek name - he was the Physician of the Gods. Pretty appropriate, really. Homer said he 'knew the remedies for all things' but he can also predict and cause disease which is how my powers work."  
"Wow - that's pretty detailed," Grantaire was impressed.  
"I know, I wanted to be called Asclepius, the God of Healing, but apparently that's too much of a mouthful."  
"It is too much of a mouthful," Bossuet, or Tell - Grantaire corrected himself, "I can't even pronounce it." He turned to the shadow figure beside him. "I'm Tell because of the famous archer - William Tell," he explained, "Also I can Tell the future. Sometimes. And it's not always correct or helpful." Grantaire laughed at the pun and Tell looked at him, slightly confused.  
"Yeah?" Grantaire asked, making his voice even lower - just in case. Tell shook his head and laughed.  
"No - sorry. I thought your laugh was kind of familiar," he explained, "I might have dreamed it. I get prophetic dreams sometimes but they're barely ever anything useful. Just dropping glasses of water and stuff like that. Them I'm walking along with my drink and I'll get this unexplainable de-ja-vu. So. I'll pause for a second and then - bam - I've dropped my drink. It's the worst Power; vague visions coming too late."  
"You of get useful things as well," Paeon pointed out, "Like Patron Minette."  
"Yeah, only if I concentrate," Tell replied, "I don't get anything cool like lottery numbers or things that I could bet on. It is pretty good for archery though, hence the bow and arrow theme I've got going." Grantaire nodded as they reached the end of the corridor. There was a dim green light, more felt than seen and too small and insignificant to worry about.

"We should start looking," said Paeon with a sigh.  
"For what?" asked Tell, slinging his sheath of arrows off his back and propping it against the wall. Grantaire could feel the green light pulsing, pushing up against his shadows. He frowned and started scanning the ground.  
"I don't know, anything?" Paeon replied, "God knows what Inferno expects to find."   
"Like a strange, glowing marble?" asked Grantaire, finally finding the source of the pulsating green light underneath Tell's arrows. He leant down to pick the object up and showed it to the pair who stared at it curiously.   
"How come I didn't see that when I put my stuff down?" asked Tell, annoyed at himself.   
"It was really dim - I could only really feel it," Grantaire explained, looking down at the marble in his hand and feeling slightly worried. The marble was getting brighter and larger, it seemed to be eating away at the shadows that covered his palm. 

"Uh, yeah like that," said Paeon, staring at the marble curiously.  
"How did I not see that?" Tell asked grumpily, peering at the marble in Grantaire's hand.  
"Go show it to Chronos, quickly. He'll just touch it and be able to tell where it came from," Paeon told Grantaire, not being able to take his eyes off the marble. It's light had started to pulsate, beating almost like a heartbeat. It was still as cold as it had been, despite the light. Grantaire had become extra aware of temperature since his Powers developed, although it affected him less, and he could have sworn it was getting steadily colder. He nodded and closed his eyes, picturing the patch of shadow he had been standing in moments before. It took him a minute to get there, having to conceal the light properly before he could travel with it. 

"I like him- he's all mysterious and stuff," he heard Tell comment jovially.   
"Suspicious; the word you're looking for is suspicious and it isn't usually a good thing," Paeon muttered but he didn't sound too worried about Shadow. Grantaire grinned as he felt himself fade into the other room

He opened his eyes to see Chronos and Inferno deep in discussion. They were standing by the desk. He walked over to them, holding the marble in his hand. It was definitely getting colder he noticed, and the light was dimming. The marble seemed to becoming cloudy, almost like his shadow was creeping into it. 

"What is it?" asked Inferno snappily as he glanced up to see Grantaire's disembodied shadow approaching him and Chronos.   
"We found this," Grantaire said as he held up the marble. Chronos looked at it and raised an eyebrow.   
"A marble?" he asked doubtfully. Grantaire sighed and shook his head.   
"Inferno, hold out your hand," he ordered, hoping that Inferno would also feel the temperature difference. Inferno glanced towards Chronos who nodded and reluctantly he held out his hand. Grantaire dropped the marble into his hand. 

The three stood there for several seconds and nothing happened. "I don't understand, nothing's happening," said Inferno. As soon as he had said the word the marble seemed to react to him. It lit up and glowed brighter than Inferno was at that moment. Inferno stared at it in shock.   
"It's hot as well," he said in disbelief. Grantaire nodded.   
"That was faster than it was for me," he commented.   
"Well, that's the way light and darkness work; shadows creep in, light floods in," said Chronos, peering at the marble with open fascination, "It's almost like it's reflecting your Powers. Here, let me see."

Inferno let Chronos take the marble which he held reverently as he closed his eyes, frowning with concentration. Nothing happened for a long time, just Chronos biting his lip as the marble pulsated steadily with the same green glow as before. The light it had had in Inferno's hand had gone and it had also lost the cloudiness from Grantaire's shadows. Then suddenly he gasped and dropped the marble. The marble moved through the air incredibly slowly and hit the stone ground with a low thud. As soon as it hit the floor it returned to a normal speed, rolling off. 

"I could feel it," gasped Chronos, "I could feel it pushing at my mind, the same way I was pushing at its past. I could feel it going through my memories."  
"It's concious?" asked Inferno in alarm. Grantaire used his foot to poke curiously at the marble which had returned to glowing gently on the floor of the office.   
"No," replied Chronos, "It wasn't searching in particular, just copying what I was doing, it somehow stole my Psychometry. I got a name though; Babet. Someone said something to someone called Babet when they were holding that marble. They had well manicured hands, I could tell that much. It was still a normal marble then, I think; it's all unclear, especially with that Thing pushing into my mind," Chronos shivered, "At least I avoid doing that to other people."  
"Babet?" asked Inferno. Chronos nodded, "It definitely was someone?"   
"Yes, it was a name. I could feel it was a name," confirmed Chronos.   
"Good - we have a lead now. I 'll ask Bolt to start tracking down who it could be," Inferno said. He seemed pleased but Grantaire couldn't help but feel apprehensive. It was a too obvious clue. Maybe even a trap. 

\-------

Grantaire and Eponine had left a few minutes later as the police had begun to arrive. The policy's track record of dealing with Mutants was not great and none of Les Amis had wanted to end up in a fight with the law. Not even Les Amis could take on the army if it came down to it, which it had a couple of times in the past. 

Grantaire and Eponine had returned home in the middle of the night, exhausted and glaringly sober. Neither had work until the afternoon the next day so they had fallen into bed. They had been woken the next morning by a loud knocking on their door. It was Eponine who answered, still bleary and tired. 

Grantaire had been in bed when he had heard her voice, higher than usual.   
"Oh, hey Marius! And Enjolras! Come in!"   
Grantaire had all but fallen out of bed, bringing the covers with him. He had been in a desperate rush, throwing on the first pair of jeans he could find and a plain black t-shirt which was relatively clean. He'd wandered out of his room, trying to look casual and not like he had just woken up.

Still, Enjolras' nose had wrinkled at the sight of him.   
"Did you just wake up? It's almost midday," he told Grantaire, sounding distainful. Grantaire found it strange to see the God-like Enjolras standing awkwardly in the squalor of his and Eponine's apartment. Eponine was chatting animatedly with Marius, holding a coat which she had presumably left behind at the Musain the night before.     
"Yes," Grantaire admitted, "I was drunk so 'Ponine and I thought it would be a good idea to stay up and watch Disney movies instead of going to bed like reasonable people." He said the last part loudly, so Eponine would hear.   
"Oh, which ones?" Marius asked curiously.  
"Uh-" Grantaire mentally flicked through the Disney movies they owned, "The Little Mermaid and the Hunchback of Notredame." 

"Oh, that's my favourite," said Enjolras, his face surprisingly soft. Grantaire blanched and stared at Enjolras, shocked at the fact Enjolras of all people actually knew what Disney movies were. Also shocked at how Enjolras had said something to him that wasn't aggressive.   
"How do you even know-" began Eponine, also shocked. To be honest, Marius looked pretty suprised as well.   
"I lived with Courf for several years, I have had countless Disney marathons," Enjolras said, rolling his eyes at their suprise.  
Grantaire made a strangled noise but finally managed to form words.   
"So, did you mean the Little Mermaid or the Hunchback of Notre Dame?" he asked. The look Enjolras gave him was withering.   
"The Hunchback of Notre Dame," he said, like it was obvious, "I don't approve much of Disney Princess movies, they encourage monarchy and make you girls think that they're only special did they're royalty."  
"You don't like Disney Princesses?" Eponine asked in shock, "You heathen!"   
"Come on," said Grantaire in complete disbelief, "You're not serious. Disney Princess movies are not harmful in the slightest. Well maybe some of the earlier ones but you have to watch those with the historical context in mind. But seriously? Mulan? Princess and the Frog? Beauty and the Beast?"   
Enjolras was silent for a moment while the other three stared at him in horror before he reluctantly admitted, "Okay maybe some of them are pretty good."  
Grantaire gave a smirk, "Exactly. Though I have to agree with you - Hunchback of Notre Dame is the best." Eponine snorted but Enjolras ignores her and nodded earnestly.   
"You have good taste," he told Grantaire who's insides felt like they were suddenly turned to jelly. He felt himself blush and hurriedly laughed to cover it up.  
"Yeah, though I'm guessing you're more of a God Help the Outcasts kind of person."   
"Of course! It's clearly the best," Enjolras scoffed. Grantaire raised an eyebrow and the blond bristled, "Well, what kind of guy are you then?"   
"Hellfire," Grantaire told him with a languid grin and it was Enjolras' turn to raise an eyebrow. 

"Uh - Enjolras," Marius interrupted nervously, "Courfeyrac will be expecting us pretty soon so we should probably go?" Eponine was standing beside him looking sad, probably to do with Marius' conversation topic; the beautiful blonde girl he had seen in the park weeks ago.  
Enjolras, much to Grantaire's disappointment, turned away from him and looked over at Marius and Eponine. Eponine was clutching her coat and looking disappointed but Marius was, as usual, oblivious.   
"Okay, we should probably be going then," said Enjolras, glancing back at Grantaire quickly. He nodded helplessly, wishing that the pair would stay for a bit longer. They said their goodbyes and Marius and Enjolras made their way to the door. 

It hit Grantaire as he watched Enjolras leave. His stomach had felt like butterflies throughout the whole conversation but as Enjolras walked out of the door it felt more like lead. The room suddenly seemed darker, more saturated; like all the colour was leaving, in a bright red coat and golden hair. For a moment all Grantaire could think was how much he wanted Enjoras to stay. The realisation felt like a long-awaited punch in the gut; sudden and painful but inevitable. 

Grantaire was in love with Enjolras. 

The words echoed round his head and he felt almost sick. Luckily before he could properly process them and descend into a state of true panic there was a loud crash from just outside the barely closed door. Eponine reopened it to see Marius sprawled on the floor, their neighbour Cosette beside him. Enjolras was staring suprised at the pair. 

"I am so sorry," Marius said, scrambling to his feet, "Really, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Cosette was also pushing herself up and she looked at him and smiled, "I'm fine, it's alright. Wait - are you the guy from the park?"  
Marius looked shell-shocked, "Uh, yes. Yes. You're - you're the girl from the park!"   
Eponine swore quietly from beside Grantaire but Cosette nodded and smiled. "Cosette," she introduced herself, holding out her hand. Marius shook it, looking slightly dazed. "Marius. It's nice to meet you! Cosette." 

Eponine looked shattered at the soft way he said the blonde girls name. Grantaire was too preoccupied by his best friend squeezing his wrist with a vice-like grip to stare at Enjolras who just looked slightly annoyed.   
"Technically we have almost met before," pointed out Cosette with a slight giggle. Marius laughed and nodded in agreement. The pair were grinning stupidly at eachother, completely lost. From the what he had picked up from Eponine he knew that Marius had seen his 'dream girl' at a park where he walked everyday. They'd smiled at each other for weeks but never got further than a murmered 'morning'.

"This can't be happening," Eponine whispered and Grantaire made a soothing noise. It wasn't like Marius or Cosette would notice, they were too busy smiling at each other, trapped in their own little bubble.   
"I'm sorry - it's going to be okay," muttered Grantaire, gently touching her arm in a desperate attempt to comfort his friend. It was a lie; Marius and Cosette were obviously head-over heels for each other already.  At his words Enjolras glanced curiously at Grantaire over his shoulder. Grantaire felt his heart momentarily stop and realised that he really had to get this whole 'in love' thing under control. Going by his track record with Enjolras, the feelings would never be returned. 

"I was just going downstairs," said Marius, finally dropping Cosette's hand and gesturing to the lift.   
"So was I," Cosette told him, "But don't take the lift - some one peed in there, I think. Walk down the stairs with me? It's a little longer."  
Marius jumped at the chance to spend more time with Cosette and nodded furiously. She began to make her way towards the stairwell, Marius following eagerly. Enjolras turned back to Eponine and Grantaire who were frozen in the doorway.   
"I'll see you around," he said with a nod and hurried after the pair of lovers, careful to keep a distance. Grantaire's stomach was not behaving like his stomach should. 

The door swung shut slowly, leaving Eponine and Grantaire standing in silence. Eponine looked at him, eyes almost shining with tears. Grantaire bit his lip and hesitated just a moment before hugging his best friend. She sniffed into his shoulder.   
"Please don't snot on me," he muttered, "I like this shirt and if you snot on me I won't buy you ice cream."  
Eponine drew back. "You'll buy me ice cream?" she asked hopefully. Grantaire nodded and she smiled weakly.   
"We're going to sit on the sofa, eat ice cream and marathon Lord of the Rings, okay?" Grantaire said, leading her over to the sofa. Eponine nodded and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, sniffing slightly. 

She curled up on the sofa, looking tired.   
"I feel so pathetic," she said with a bitter laugh, "I can't even be mad at Cosette; I treated her like shit when we were kids and now the boy that I'm in love with has fallen for her. Karma."  
Grantaire sat down beside her and shook her head.   
"No, that's not how this is going to be," he told her firmly. Eponine glared at him in suprise but let him continue, "Look, it's crappy that Marius likes Cosette but this isn't some cosmic prank. They're just two people who like each other. Anyway, they've never talked before so it might be falling apart right now. But in case you haven't noticed - you're life hasn't been brilliant either. I was around for most of it. And anyway, you were a kid. Don't turn it into some sort of 'the world is getting revenge' thing, I'm not going to let you do that."   
Eponine smiled sadly.  
"Whatever you say R," she said, "Can I just get some ice cream?" 

Grantaire sighed, squeezed her hand and grabbed his coat, following Enjolras out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first published fic for the Les Mis fandom. Please, please give feedback and like and stuff. It makes feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  
> I'm on tumblr at http://imnotmrholmes.tumblr.com
> 
> (Title taken from lyrics of Within Temptation's song Fire and Ice)


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